


Perfect Paradise (Tearing at the Seams)

by writeranthea



Series: AU: Perfect Paradise [1]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Anxiety Disorder, Broken Engagement, Cheating, Coming Out, Declarations Of Love, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Issues, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Heartbreak, Internalized Homophobia, Junior is a cute kid, Light Angst, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Marriage Proposal, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow To Update, Team as Family, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 239,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22803811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeranthea/pseuds/writeranthea
Summary: Leo still found himself lying awake at night, staring into the darkness of his bedroom with silent tears running down his face and his mind breaking itself over the question ofwhy. Why had Cristiano felt the need to hurt and to humiliate him like that after they had spend almost four years together? Why him, and whythem?Cristiano and him had been supposed to get married in a couple of months, they had bought a penthouse and Leo had officially adopted Junior as his son. They had paved the way for them to become a real family - only for Cristiano to go and ruin their entire relationship within the course of a single evening.A story on how their relationship developed, how it broke apart and how they, in the end, found each other all over again.
Relationships: Gerard Piqué/Sergio Ramos, Lionel Messi/Cristiano Ronaldo, Neymar/James Rodríguez
Series: AU: Perfect Paradise [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891999
Comments: 302
Kudos: 224





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of the plot I made Junior younger than he is as well as the only child that exists for now, Cristiano and James never left Madrid just like Neymar never left Barcelona :-)
> 
> A/N: I posted this story on AO3. If you see it on any other website or platform, please consider that I did not consent to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_“So look me in the eyes, tell me what you see._   
_Perfect paradise, tearin' at the seams.”_   
  


_**Monday, 11. May 2020.** _

In hindsight and in truth, Leo had a very hard time believing that a fight over a stack of unwashed dishes had not only lead to Cristiano storming out of their home, but for the Portuguese to run straight into the arms of another man on the same evening. They had been supposed to fly to Paris a few days later, where Leo would be awarded his sixth Ballon d’Or, where they had been supposed to celebrate his win. _Together_ , in the city which had meant so much to them. Leo simply wasn’t able to fathom how Cristiano had it in him to ruin the relationship that they had, how he had gone and had destroyed the years that they had shared together while wiping out the future which Leo had believed had been waiting for them at the same time.

It was just that disbelief that had caused the wound in Leo’s heart to become a festering one, a steady reminder of what he had lost and how badly he had been hurt by the man which he though he’d get to love for the rest of his life. After everything that they had managed to go through as a couple, _together_ , it had been a simple argument that had successfully torn them apart by leading Cristiano to cheat on him. It had not been the media and its otherwise so ruthless journalists and paparazzi, it had not been the rivalry between them and their clubs and neither had it been the strain of keeping their relationship hidden from the public eye for nearly three years. No, it had been something so minor as an argument over a stack of unwashed dishes. It had been Cristiano cheating on him with a random man at a party to which Leo and him had been supposed to go to as a couple. Even half a year later Leo still couldn’t quite believe it.

“It can’t be just that,” was something that Neymar had told him over and over again during the first few days after the incident, “no one would possibly cheat because of an argument it’s-it’s not... What the fuck, who would even do that?” But Cristiano had done just that, and he had absolutely shattered Leo’s heart in the process.

“He must’ve been looking for an excuse to cheat on you,” Gerard had told him during the most recent one of their late-night talks when Leo had been unable to sleep. “Fuck, Leo, I could never do that to Sergio... I’m so sorry. I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, okay? Forget that son of a bitch, you deserve so much better than that.”

He wasn’t just haunted by the memories of the relationship with Cristiano that he had cherished for such a long time, though. Neither his job, the media nor his friends were of any help when it came to forgetting the four happiest years of his life he had spend with the family he had thought he could cherish forever. Following Gerard’s advice Leo _had_ tried to stop loving Cristiano, oh and how he had tried, but it would have been a blatant lie if he would have said that he no longer loved him. Even though his heart had been torn out of his chest and his trust had been betrayed in the worst possible way, he still loved him to that day. He feared that he would never stop doing so; Leo didn’t know when, or _if_ it would ever get better, if he would ever be able to think about the Portuguese without being pushed over the verge of tears and if he would ever find someone to fill the gaping hole which has been left behind by the end of his relationship. _God, how he loved Cristiano._

Before his ex-fiancé had went out and had destroyed Leo’s heart beyond repair, he had truly believed that he had found his other half in the older man, that he had finally found his family in Cristiano and Junior and that there could not be a thing that could reach them after everything they had gone through over the course of more than four years.

There were times when Leo would find himself lying awake at night, simply staring into the darkness of his room with silent tears running down his face and his mind breaking itself over the question of _why_. _Why_ had Cristiano felt the need to hurt him so when they had spend years in what Leo had thought to have been happiness as it was written in the books? _Why_ him, and _why_ them? Their relationship had begun so happily, Cristiano and him had been supposed to get married and he had since adopted Junior, paving the way for them to become a real family... only for Cristiano to cheat and ruin everything within a single evening. Leo had long lost count of how many nights he had cried himself to sleep. If it would have been every single one of the past six months, he would not have been surprised. Cristiano had broken his heart, ruthlessly and for good, and he was lost ever since.

_**Ballon d'Or Gala, 12. January 2015.** _

If Leo would have claimed that he had not felt a stab of jealousy and a bit of resentment at the sight of his archrival Cristiano Ronaldo showing of his third Ballon d’Or award, it would have been a lie. While he had never cared all that much about individual awards, he would not have been disappointed if it would have been his name that had been read out aloud. He had not shown it, of course, had still applaused and shown of a smile. The media would have given him hell if he would’ve kept a stoic face.

It also would have been a lie if Leo would have denied the fact that Cristiano had cut an incredibly good figure on stage in his dark blue suit. _God, he had looked so good_. That Antonella had been sitting beside him, he had not really considered as he had allowed his thoughts to stray off. As embarrassing as it had been, Leo had been aware of the crush that he had on Ronaldo for a while. He rather would have cut his tongue off than accidentally reveal his feelings to anyone, let alone the Portuguese himself. Not only because they had both been men, from rivalling football clubs and had never been honestly friendly with each other, but because they had been as different as they only could have been. Cristiano had loved his Gucci, his Chanel and his tanning sessions, had driven the most expensive cars and had a history of turning up with a new piece of arm candy at every other event. 

Leo had barely kept from rolling his eyes when Cristiano had held his award up once again, with an even wider grin that time, and had caused the flashing of the countless cameras to intensify. The most significant difference between them had been just that: the fact that Cristiano had apparently loved to bask in front of the camera while Leo had been glad if it had been possible for him to haste past the paparazzi as fast as possible. He had run his fingers to his carefully styled hair, had popped another button of his jacket open and had turned his gaze back towards the stage.

Cristiano had looked into his direction just as Leo had raised his gaze and even though he had hurried to avert it, he had felt the Portuguese’s eyes lingering on him for a few more seconds. Whatever it had been that had been so prominent in Cristiano’s eyes, Leo had not been able to read it. Maybe it had been mockery. Or had it been a friendly look, one of peaceful approach? Leo had not known, but neither had he tried to interpret it. It only would have been in vain anyway, he had told himself, and so he had concentrated on fumbling with the buttons of his jacket so that his fingers had something to do.

In the seat beside him, Antonella had typed away at her phone. The two of them had since grown apart, slowly but at a steady pace, and Leo had been strangely alright with it. Antonella was a sweet woman, he simply had not loved her as a future wife any longer and her behaviour towards him had told him that she had felt no different. At least there would not be any hard feelings left between them once their long-term relationship would come to an end.

“I’ll get a drink,” she had said, sudden enough to startle Leo. “Do you want anything from the bar?”

“Uh... not right now, no. Thanks.” 

She had given a quick nod in return, had taken her purse and had emerged herself into the mass of people that had been in the process of leaving the hall. Leo had not watched her go, had instead sighed inaudibly and had stood from his seat with a zestful motion. Cristiano had since disappeared from the stage, the photo session with the year’s winners would always take place backstage, and so Leo had decided to leave en route for the VIP area of the after-party, smiling and bowing his head at the familiar faces he had passed by on his way.

“ _Leeeeoooo!_ ” He had heard his best friend before he had actually spotted him amongst the crowd. Neymar had wriggled out of James’ arms to jog over to the Argentine and embrace him, “I missed you.”

Leo had chuckled when Neymar had ruffled through his hair, a wide grin present on his face, “Are you drunk?”

“Nah, I’m not. Not yet at least.” Neymar had wrapped an arm around his shoulders, had pulled him close and had eventually walked him over to where James had been standing at one of the bar tables. Leo had tried not to stare when James had grabbed Neymar by the collar of his shirt and had planted a kiss onto the other man’s lips; he would only say it much later but Leo had always felt a stab of jealousy at the way that the two had gone public with their relationship. They had never cared about what anyone around them had said.

“Leo.”

“James.”

“So Ronaldo won again huh,” Neymar had said with a snort, blindly carching the thin plastic straw of his drink between his lips. “It should’ve been _you_ , Leo.”

“I don’t know, I... individual awards are...”, he had muttered, gesturing with his hands where words had failed on him after all.

“But you are the best,” Neymar had gone on, gently nudging him with his elbow as if to cheer him up. “And you should probably have a drink.”

Leo had snorted a laugh, “I could use one,” and had nudged his friend back.

“Go on then, we’ll wait for you. Scream if you run into Ronaldo by accident.” 

James had slapped the back of Neymar’s head before Leo could have retorted anything, and so the Argentine had wordlessly turned and left for the bar. He had not wanted to be a sourpuss, but standing by while his best friend had been so happy with the man he had loved had made Leo yearn for someone that he could have been... so close with. Hell, he had not remembered when he had last held hands with Antonella. Scolding himself in his mind, he forced himself to a smile as he had made his way to the open bar. “Can I get you anything, Sir?”, the bartender had greeted him with.

Leo had smiled and had fumbled to get a bill out of the pocket of his trousers, passing it over to the him, “One Raspberry Mojito, please.”

The bartender had accepted the tip with a thankful nod, “Right away, Sir.”

“Thank you.” 

The classical music which had been put on to act as a white noise for the party had actually done its part to help Leo relax somewhat and he had rolled his shoulders to get rid of the last of his tension. He might not have won, but he would have been damned if he would not at least try and enjoy himself for the remainder of the evening. Antonella had been nowhere to be seen - he had already known that she would not return to their hotel room that night. “Your Raspberry Mojito, Sir.”

“Thank you.” Taking the glass of the counter, Leo had stirred the drink with the straw before taking the first, almost cautious sip. The taste of the white rum would have been enough for him to pull his face into a grimace if it would not have been for the sweet, overpowering taste of the raspberry syrup had saved him. The drink had left a light burn in his throat after he had swallowed, and Leo had sighed inaudibly in contentment. He had spotted Neymar and James where he had left them at the table, though someone had stepped into his path just as he had moved to walk over towards his friends.

“Messi.” 

_Of course. It had to be his luck._ Leo had muttered an incoherent curse under his breath and had closed his eyes as the taller man in front of him had chuckled with a deep, baritone laugh. “Ronaldo.” He had not needed to look up into Cristiano’s face to know that the Portuguese had been smirking, and if he had felt a dull twinge in his chest, it had been due to the mojito. Leo had not said another word, had merely moved around the older man to join his friends.

“You didn’t scream for help,” Neymar had whispered into his ear, laughing while Leo had rolled his eyes and had taken a larger sip from his mojito as if he had been dying of thirst.

“I thought he’d be gone for longer,” he had answered back with an equally low voice, not letting the straw slip out from between his lips. Both Leo and Neymar had looked up when there had been a sudden commotion beside them, and it had also been the both of them that had rolled their eyes. Cristiano and James had been embracing and laughing, clapping each other on the back.

“God, I can’t stand him.”

“Trust me Ney, I can’t either.”

“Oh I know, I’d be surprised if you could.” 

The two Madristas had enjoyed each other’s company for a few moments longer, and Leo had needed to close his eyes in order to brace himself when James and Cristiano had joined them at the table. “Great suit,” the Portuguese had said, setting his own drink down onto the table in front of him.

Leo had closed his eyes anew, had sighed and had only opened them again when he had failed to find the straw of his drink, “Yeah right.”

He had missed how Cristiano’s brows had pulled together, “I mean it.”

“Mh, I’m sure you do.” Why Cristiano had decided to play friendly with him, Leo had not known. The Portuguese had never been exactly subtile with his aversion towards him. Neymar and James had exchanged a look and had, much to Leo’s shock, stated that they had been tired and would take a taxi to their hotel, “Ney-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Leo,” had been all that his best friend had said before he had taken James’ hand and had dragged his boyfriend off towards the exit. _Great, just fucking great_. Leo had turned his attention back onto his already half empty drink.

“I did mean it, you know.”

With the space beside him then deserted, Cristiano had moved around the table until he had stood so close to Leo that the younger man had been able to smell his perfume. He had tried to not look at Cristiano’s hands that had been closed around the Portuguese’s drink, or the way that Cristiano had been tracing the rim of the glass with his right thumb. It had been an awkward scene, the both of them standing next to each other while chatters and laughters from the other guests had filled out the air. “Like I said, I’m sure that you meant it, Ronaldo.”

“Don’t you think it’s time for us to stop pretending that we’re actually enemies?”

“ _What?_ ” Leo’s heart had certainly not somersaulted, thank you very much, but if he would have judged by the way that Cristiano had smirked down at him, his disbelief had been visible on his face.

“Or do you not agree, hm?”

He had opened his mouth to speak, but had quickly averted his gaze when he had felt a blush rising into his face. It had certainly been easier to deny his attraction when Cristiano’s face had not been hovering inches above his own, “I... you’re probably right. It’s quite childish, this whole thing.”

“It is childish.” They had fallen into silence once again, but Cristiano had not moved away from where he had stood so _agonisingly_ close to Leo, who had emptied the remaining half of his drink with a speed that he had not originally intended. Leo had felt Cristiano’s eyes on him as he had caught the straw between his lips, a fact that had only increased the blush on his cheeks. Though if he would have been asked, he easily could have claimed that it had been due to the alcohol instead; Leo never would have given the Portuguese the satisfaction of knowing how flustered he had made him feel. Cristiano had shifted beside him, but before Leo could have hoped that he would finally be left alone, the older man had leaned down to whisper his next word right into Leo’s ear, “What would you say if we’d go and talk somewhere more private?”

He had not been able to prevent his breath from hitching, especially not after Cristiano’s hand had touched the small of his back. It had been a feathery touch, one that had lasted for no more than a second, but considering that it had come from _Cristiano Ronaldo_ , it had been more than enough for Leo to feel like a teenager with his first crush. He had been utterly embarrassed and had concentrated on fishing one of the small ice cubes out of his glass as he had spluttered his answer, “Uh... y-yeah, why not. Yeah, we can do that.”

Cristiano had been grinning as if he had scored a dozen goals against Barça and had thrown his head back as he had emptied what had been left of his drink. Leo had tried to not stare at the curve of his neck. “Great!”

“Where are you-”

“I know a place, come on.” 

The hand in the small of his back had returned, that time to linger for a bit longer and even if Leo had not been all that comfortable with the prospect of talking to the Portuguese in private, he never could have said no. He had been screwed - with a capital S at that, too. “Okay.” Leo had been sure that he and Cris had never shared so many friendly words in a row, and his heart had fluttered as he had set his empty glass down onto the table before he had followed after Cristiano, trying to ignore the countless pairs of eyes that had landed on them as they had moved through the crowd. He had no idea where Cristiano had planned to take him, though it had begun to dawn on him once they had reached the area where Leo had believed the toilets to be. His heart had plummeted into the pit of his stomach. Had the Portuguese been so embarrassed to talk to him that he had felt the need to do it without anyone seeing it? Leo had nearly turned around and bolted and as if Cristiano had noticed it, he had turned around to smile at him.

Leo had been utterly screwed. 

Cristiano had eventually opened one of the doors and had stepped aside to allow the younger man to enter first, though he had barely registered it before a pair of hands had grabbed him by the waist, had spun him around and had pushed him against the then closed door. Leo’s knees had turned weak when Cristiano had suddenly stood towering above him, and his mind had come to a screeching halt when the Portuguese had let go of his waist to cup his face and capture his lips in a kiss. He had been too stunned to react for the first few seconds and it had only been when Cristiano had tilted his head further back to deepen the kiss that he had snapped back into the there and then and had moved his lips in a mirroring motion to Cristiano’s, absentmindedly resting his hands on the taller man’s waist. 

They had both been ouf of breath by the time that they had parted. Leo had been sure that his entire face must had been burning with the brightest shade of red and he had pulled his hands back once he had realised where he had put them, so as if he had been burned, “Ronaldo...” 

He had trailed off when Cristiano had leaned down until the tips of their noses had touched. “Come on just call me Cris already, or at least Cristiano,” the Portuguese had whispered, “Lionel.”

“Leo,” he had whispered back, feeling too flustered to meet Cristiano’s gaze, “my friends call me Leo, only my father calls me Lionel.”

“Leo then.” Cristiano’s thumbs had brushed over his shaved cheeks and when he had been kissed that time, Leo had been prepared for it. As prepared as he could have been, considering that it had been Cristiano Ronaldo who had crowded him against the door of a random bathroom, but Leo had still gasped when Cristiano had pushed one muscular thigh between both of his. Not only had it made him aware of his own apparent arousal, but it had shown him that Cristiano had been no less eager for... whatever it had been that they had been doing.

“Cristiano.” Leo had put a hand onto the older man’s chest, less to push him away than to have a chance to speak. His heart had been threatening to burst out of his chest, more than a tab overwhelmed by the situation they had been in.

“Leo,” had been all that Cristiano had repeated and his voice had been so thickly laced with his Portuguese accent and undeniable arousal that Leo had dropped to his knees without thinking about it. It would have been a blatant lie if he would have said that he had not wanted Cristiano, that he would have done about anything to ensure that Cristiano would want him back. So he had dropped down to his knees, his heart soaring at the low moan that had he had drawn out of Cristiano. _Fuck_. “Leo, bebê, you don’t have to.”

He had believed him, despite the arousal in his voice and the tent in his Gucci dress pants, and had found himself grinning at the sound of Cristiano’s breath hitching when he had loosened the buckle of his belt. His own arousal had since skyrocketed, wiping out his usually always so prominent nervousness, “I know.”

“Porra, Leo, você não tem idéia do quanto eu quero isso.” 

He may not have understood what Cristiano had said, but Leo had still bitten his lip as had unbuttoned the fly of the Portuguese’s trousers and had darted a quick look up. Cristiano had stared down at him with parted lips and wide, almost disbelieving eyes and Leo had kept his gaze casted upwards as he leaned over to catch the slider of the zipper between his teeth and pull it down with a teasing slowness. It had been a while since he had last been with a man and while it would have been a lie if he would have said that he, in the back of his head, had not been somewhat nervous still, he had tried not to think as he had reached inside Cristiano’s trousers and had closed his fingers around the already throbbing erection he had found there. 

The older man’s hips had twitched in response and he had driven a hand into Leo’s hair, pulling with just the right amount of strength. Leo had forgone any of the steps that he would have taken if it would have been more than a quick blowjob in a public bathroom, if it would have been anyone but Cristiano Ronaldo whose cock he had held in his hand. He had done little more than to stroke the older man with two, rather rough strokes before he had shuffled forward and had swallowed Cristiano’s cock down to the hilt with a single thrust. The gagging sound had been overshadowed by Cristiano’s shout of his name. If it would have been heard outside, Leo would not have been surprised. He had planted his hands against the door for leverage and had breathed through his nose to prevent himself from gagging again, hollowing his cheeks and making sure that his teeth would not come in the way. 

Cristiano had grunted above him, snapping his hips forwards every now and then and if his hold in Leo’s hand had blended borders with painful, Leo had not been bothered by it. Cristiano had not lasted for long, and as it had seemed it had not only been Leo who had been surprised by the sudden orgasm. The older man’s knees had threatened to give out and Leo had swallowed before he had hurried to get back onto his feet, his face aflame. The silence that had filled out the small bathroom had been unbearable, making him wish that he would not have been there in that very moment. He had felt dirty, in a way. If anyone would ever find out that he had dropped to his knees and had sucked _Cristiano Ronaldo_ off during the Ballon d’Or Gala he would pretty much be forced to say goodbye to his career at Barça. 

Cristiano had stared at him with what could have been a mixture of disbelief, surprise and something else that Leo had not been able to put his finger onto. He had been too ashamed to meet his gaze and had, when neither of them had spoken, straightened his creased suit jacket attempted to move past Cristiano and out of the bathroom, but a hand on his arm had hindered him from slipping out of the door like he had wanted. “Leo.” He had still been too embarrassed, too flushed to look up into the other man’s face. Cristiano taking Leo’s face into his hands and tilting his head back with a determining gentleness had eventually forced him to do so, “Don’t tell me that you want this to be a one-time thing between us.”

In all the years that they had known each other Leo had never heard him talking with such a gentle voice, had never seen so much vulnerability in Cristiano’s eyes. “N-No,” he had stuttered in response, “but I thought that you don’t-” Cristiano had cut him off with a kiss, had pulled him close and had deepened the kiss by pushing his tongue into Leo’s mouth. There had been no doubt that the taller man must have tasted himself in the kiss. A strangled moan had escaped Leo when Cristiano’s lips had brushed over the sensitive spot underneath his jaw, “Cris-”

“Bebê.” The older man had placed an array of kisses down the side of his neck, silencing whatever it had been that Leo had wanted to say, “Come on, you know that I don’t do flings any more. And if you think that I haven’t noticed the way that you’ve been looking at me tonight...”

“I...”

Cristiano had pulled back to look at him. “I wanted us to do this,” he had said with a voice barely above a whisper as he had placed a kiss onto the corner of Leo’s mouth, “for a while now, but I never knew whether I read your signals right or not, Leo. I never knew whether you really looked at me _like that_ , or if I just wanted you to.” Leo had been unable to react to what he had heard, and had merely gasped softly when Cristiano had run one of his hands down the curve of his back until it had come to rest on the swall of his ass. The Portuguese had continued once he had noticed that there would be no answer coming from Leo. “So if you want to,” he had whispered, “I would like to try it with you.”

Leo had swallowed, trying hard to not sound too disheartened while his heart had plummeted into the pit of his stomach, “No strings attached?”

The way that Cristiano’s brows had pulled together had told him that his question had not been what the other had expected to hear, “I want all the strings attached with you. Every single one of them.”

“What?”

Cristiano had cocked one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows, “Don’t tell me that you think me as promiscuous as the media does.” Leo’s cheeks had gained an even deeper shade of red and he had begun to feel a bit fatigue from all the blushing that he had done that evening, inspecting the buttons of Cristiano’s dress shirt rather than looking up to meet the older man’s impaling gaze. If only he would have known how much he would be screwed afterwards. Cristiano had laughed out loud, moving his hand from Leo’s cheeks into the back of his neck to caress the short hairs he had found there. “You really believe them?” The older man had clicked his tongue and had squeezed Leo’s ass and neck at the same time as if to reassure him, “I take them to the parties, Leo, never into my bed. Except for Irina.” Leo’s cheeks had still been burning when Cristiano had stepped back to button up his _ridiculous_ red suit and fix the lapels, flashing him one of his million dollar smiles, “But she’s been history for a long time.”

He had nodded rather absentmindedly, somewhat overwhelmed with the events that had taken place in the last half of an hour or so, and had cleared his throat before he had managed a quiet, “Okay.”

Cristiano had apparently been very amused that he had caused Leo to be speechless, “Is that all that you have to say, bebê?”, and had stepped right back into his space and if he would not have been busy with his own thoughts, he would have noticed that there had been an undeniable hint of nervousness in Cristiano’s voice.

“I just... You’re... and I’m... you know,” Leo had stuttered, gesturing with his hands, and he had fallen silent when Cristiano had cupped his face. His eyelids had fluttered close when he had been kissed with gentleness rather then the heat of arousal. 

“You have no idea how much I actually want you, do you, Leo? How often I’ve thought about kissing you when you glared at me out on the pitch or when you tried to ignore me?”

“Cristiano...”

“Hm?”

“I thought about you doing it, too.” Leo had dared to raise his gaze at that, locking it with Cristiano’s and smiling when the older man had looked down at him in unmasked surprise.

“You what?” It had been Leo’s turn to laugh, the blush increasing once more at the grin that had grown on the Portuguese’s face and he had raised onto the tips of his toes to steal a kiss from him. “So we’re doing this?” Cristiano had muttered, closing his arms around Leo to draw him closer.

Leo’s heart had somersaulted and he had nodded, leaning over to rest his forehead against Cristiano’s collar bone. His fingers had absentmindedly fumbled with the fabric of the other man’s Chanel dress shirt. They both would have been in the devil’d kitchen if anyone would have gotten to see them in that moment. “We’re doing it,” he answered back with an equally low voice. “Cristiano.”

“Leo.” He would only realise later on that he had not wasted a single thought on Antonella the entire time that he had been with his former archenemy. Archenemies, what a ridiculous concept. They had been rivals, had never spoken all that much and had done little more than greet each other, but the media had instantly jumped onto the train and had proclaimed them _enemies that hated each other unto blood_. If Leo would have been honest, he would have needed to confess that he had not been able to tell when he had stopped hating him. It could have been months. Years even. Cristiano had kissed the top of his head, “Do you have my number, bebê?”

“N-No, I don’t think so.”

A laugh, “Give me your phone then.” Leo had reached inside his suit to retrieve his phone, biting his lower lip as he had done it and averting his gaze when Cristiano had winked at him. “I swear that I will destroy Barça in the next Clásico if you won’t call me tonight.”

“Yeah, as if you could do that.”

“We’ll see in March,” the older man had said with a snort as he had passed the phone back to him, having typed his number in, and Leo had felt a dull twinge of pain at the prospect of not getting to see him for the next three months.

 _Fuck_. “We will.”

Cristiano had nodded, taking a step to his right to fix the fly of his trousers. Leo had blushed at the sight and had shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clutching his phone in his hand. He had gasped when Cristiano had surged forward to kiss him, a hot flush shooting through him when the taller man had practically growled against his lips, “Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long, bebê. We’ll have all the strings attached, alright? There won’t be any way I’ll do it with you. Não vou compartilhar você com mais ninguém, Leo.” Cristiano had apparently waited until Leo had managed to nod before he had pulled away, had shot him a warm smile and had unlocked the bathroom door, “Call me.”

“I will, I promise.” 

And then Cristiano had been gone. 

Leo had staggered rather than walked over to the sink and had turned on the tap to splash ice cold water into his face, gasping at the impact. He and Ronaldo. _Cristiano_ and him. He had let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief as he had looked at his reflection in the mirror. If it would not have been for his dishevelled hair, his swollen lips and the fact that he had still tasted Cristiano in his mouth, Leo would not have been certain if his experience had been little more than a fever dream. He had washed his face once more before he had turned off the tap and had blindly reached for a handful of the paper towels. 

_Cristiano and him, oh good God._ Leo had been able to watch the colour rise into his face as he had stared at himself in the mirror, his mind breaking itself over the fact that he had not only given the Portuguese a blowjob, but that Cristiano had wanted him back. Latter may had been the most unexpected thing about it all; Leo never could have kept a count on how many snarls and dark looks the older man had thrown at him on the pit. _“You have no idea how much I want you, do you? How often I’ve thought about kissing you when you glared at me out on the pitch?”_ The sheer prospect that Cristiano had thought about kissing him in those moment had been enough to make Leo groan under his breath.

His phone had weighted heavily in his trousers as if it had felt the need to remind him of its presence, as if he ever could have forgotten about it. As if he had not already decided that he would call Cristiano as soon as he would be in the privacy of his hotel room. Leo had fixed his hair, as good as he could have done it, and had made sure that he had looked as respectable as ever before he had left the bathroom himself. He had no idea how long he, how long _they_ had been in there, but the had seemingly been even more guest filling out the VIP area. The better for him. Cristiano had been nowhere to be seen when Leo had emerged himself into the crowd, a hand pushed into the pocket of his trousers and a somewhat forced, nervous smile on his face. His plan of leaving unnoticed had failed.

“Leo, hey!” Marc-André had waved at him, a drink in his hand. The German goalkeeper must have stood by himself only when he had spotted Leo, for he had walked over to him right away and while Leo rather would have liked to leave the party in favour of his hotel room, he had managed a less forced smile and had waved at Marc-André. He had felt a bit bad for his teammate - Marc-André had just finished his first season with Barça and as far as Leo had known, he yet had to fully find his home amongst the Blaugrana. And not only because of the little Spanish that he had learned so far. Many had known about the apparently unrequited love that Marc-André had harboured for Rafinha, even if the goalkeeper had never spoken about it. They had embraced, both laughing heartedly when Marc-André had asked Leo whether he would be able to survive without having won his fifth Ballon d’Or that night. “I’m sure that you’ll win it next year,” the German had said, “you deserve to win it, Leo. You’re by far the best.”

Leo had clicked his tongue, feeling laughter bubbling in his chest, “You’re always so kind Marc, but we’re a team and individual awards are... no one can win or be on top of their game without the right team beside them.”

His friend had laughed and had taken a sip from his drink, “You certainly deserve it more than Ronaldo, everyone is saying so. Behind their hands, that is.”

He had been utterly defenceless against the heat that had risen into his face and had colored not only his cheeks a bright pink, but his ears as well. If Marc-André had noticed, he had not mentioned it. “Really?”

“Of course,” the taller man had laughed, “we’re all rooting for you.” They had chatted for a few more moments and Leo had hoped that his eagerness to leave had not been as noticable as his blush. His fingers had _itched_ to take out his phone, search for Cristiano’s contact and call him. It had been as if the barrier which had kept Leo’s crush at bay had been torn down by Cristiano himself. “I’ll hear from you, right?”

He had nodded, smiled and had let out a breath he had not been aware of having held in when Marc-André had walked off. _At least Cristiano had not left a hickey on his neck_ Leo had thought as he had made his way to the exit, dodging any other of the faces that had been a bit more familiar and hailing down the first available chauffeur that he had come across. “Where to, Sir?” He had answered with the name of the hotel and the chauffeur, a middle-aged man, had nodded and had opened the door for him to enter the sleek black Mercedes limousine before getting behind the wheel himself. Leo’s phone had vibrated in his pocket just as the chauffeur had set the blinker and had pulled out of the parking slot, and the corners of his mouth had twitched when the notification had showed a text from Antonella.

 _Antonella:_ [Hey, where are you?]

With the radio playing a random piece of classical music, he had not kept his sigh a silent one. While he had kept off breaking up with her for months Leo had known that he could no longer stay bound in the pretentious relationship. Not after Cristiano had kissed him, not after he had dropped to his knees to take Cristiano’s cock into his mouth and especially not after Cristiano had revealed just what his intention with him had been.

[I’m on my way to the hotel now.]

Antonella had not responded after having read his message, but Leo had not bothered to double text. He had merely locked his phone, had stashed it back into the pocket of his jacket and had resumed to look out of the window, watching the lights of Zurich pass by him. His mind had been just as full as his heart. Cristiano and him... Leo had wondered whether there would even been a way that the two of them could work out. Even if Cristiano really would return the feelings, if his crush had been required, how would they manage? They had come from rivaling clubs and the media had already haunted them with every literal and figurative step that they had taken.

Reaching the hotel had not taken as long as Leo had believed it would, and he had passed a couple of bills to the chauffeur with a reassuring smile before he had exited the car, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers. It would have been a lie if he would have said that he had not been nervous to face his soon-to-be former girlfriend even if it had been nowhere as bad as when Cristiano had suggested for them to _talk somewhere more private_. The smile that had stood on Leo’s face as he had waited for the elevator to reach the 26th floor had been fuelled by the vivid memory of Cristiano’s lips brushing against the skin of his neck.

His soon-to-be ex-girlfriend had been sitting on the edge of her bed as he had put the keycard into the slot and the door had opened with a beep; Leo had not remembered when they had last shared a hotel room with one king-sized bed. It had pretty much symbolized the pathetic state of their relationship. God had known how thankful he had been that he had never decided to get the tattoos which would have been dedicated to her. He had barely finished shrugging off his jacket before Antonella had spoken with a tone that would have perplexed, and maybe even would have frightened him if the evening would have gone by differently, if he still would have loved her.

“We need to talk.”

That her suitcase had stood untouched by the side of her bed, Leo had only noticed then. “We do,” he had retorted with what he had hoped had been a tone just as emptionless as hers, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. Antonella had looked at him for a long moment before she had spoken again.

“I’m breaking up with you, Leo. I’m sorry but I...I just don’t love you any more and it wouldn’t be fair if I’d pretend that I am... because there’s another one in my life. I’m sorry, Leo. You deserve better than what I can give you.” He had laughed, shaking his head in what only he had known had been disbelief. “What,” she had snapped, narrowing her eyes as she had stared at him.

Leo had sobered, “Nella, I... shit, I wanted to tell you that I’ve long fallen out of love with you too.” _No hard feelings._ “And that... there’s another person in my life as well. I didn’t want to hide it from you, you deserve to know about it.” 

What had followed certainly had not been something that often happened when a couple that had been together for many years would break apart. Antonella had gaped at him for a few long seconds until a smile had not only grown on her, but on Leo’s face as well, “Are you being serious?” She had stood from the bed to make her way over to him, and he had nodded. “Really?” 

“You know me, I wouldn’t lie to you about that.” When they had hugged, it had been a gesture of gratitude rather than goodbye. An incredibly heavy weight had been lifted off both of their backs, Leo had not doubted it, “I’m sorry too” 

His then ex-girlfriend had hummed, “Who is it?”

“Hm?”

“The other one in your life,” she said with a laugh and a wink after she had pulled back from the embrace, her smile widening. Leo had cleared his throat. “Do I know her? I hope she’s nice.”

The blush had returned to Leo’s face for what had to be the dozenth time that evening alone, “I don’t think that you know... that you know him.”

He had halfheartedly expected her to mock him, but Antonella’s smile had still been a honest one. She had tilted her head, “You love him, don’t you?”

“I think so, yeah,” Leo had admitted rather sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. 

She had patted his arm before she had turned to retrieve her suitcase and handbag, “I hope that you’ll be happy, Leo. You deserve it and so much more.”

“So do you, Nella. You only deserve the best.”

“I’m sure that we’ll talk, yeah?”

Leo had pushed himself off the doorframe when she had come to stand in front of him, “Of course.” 

“I’d be okay with us being friends.”

“Me too, Nella. It’s not that I don’t like you, I just...” 

Her smile had widened almost impossibly further, “I know. You’re still a good friend to me.” 

“Where are you going to stay? I won’t throw you out.”

“I booked a flight home for tonight. My things will be gone by the time that you’ll be back in Barcelona.”

“Oh, okay.” 

They had smiled at each other once more and that time, Leo had watched her leave and his heart had somersaulted when the door had closed behind her with a click. He had nearly stumbled over his feet to get to his phone which he had discarded alongside his jacket. Leo had smiled, despite the nervousness that had rose inside of him after he had selected Cristiano’s number and had begun to wait for the older man to pick up. His initial excitement had nearly disappeared into thin air at the seventh ring, but his call had been answered after the eighth, “Leo?”

He had barely been able to make out the other’s voice over the muffled sound of bass-heavy music and the chatter of people, so as if Cristiano had picked up in the middle of a party, “Cris? Hello?”

“Can you hear me? Fuck, wait a second bebê.” Leo had lightly bitten down on his bottom lip as he had listened how the Portuguese had apparently moved through the crowd until it had gotten considerably more quiet, “Better?”

He had snorted a laugh, “Yeah, much,” digging his teeth a bit harder into his lip when Cristiano had laughed as well.

“I’m glad, bebê.”

“How did you know that it’s me?”

“I already have your number,” the older man had said, sounding rather smug.

“ _What?_ ”

Cristiano had laughed again, “I got it from the German.”

Leo had pondered for a moment, then, “Marc?”

“Yes, him. I told him that there’s some business that I needed to talk to you about and he gave me your number.”

“Oh, and what would that business be?”

The older man had stopped laughing, and whatever it had been that had laced Cristiano’s voice had caused Leo’s heart to somersault. “I was afraid that you weren’t going to call me after all, you know.”

“I... told you that I would, Cris.”

A few seconds of silence had passed between them until Cristiano had spoken again. “I’m glad that you did, bebê.” Leo had stared down at his shoes. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back to the hotel.”

“I saw you leave, I would’ve liked to come with you but...”

“You saw me?”

“Mhm, right after you talked to Marc.”

Leo smiled even though the Portuguese had not been the to see it, “I didn’t see you.”

“I know that you didn’t, but seeing you all flustered from a distant wasn’t any less adorable.”

“Cris...”

“Do you know what? You looked so terribly shy after you dropped to your knees and sucked my dick. What was that about, hm?”

Leo had been certain that his entire face had been burning a bright red. “I’ll hang up,” he had muttered.

“ _Nonono_ don’t! Don’t hang up! I’m sorry bebê, I didn’t mean to tease you.” Deciding on a bit of payback, he had not said a word. “Leo?”

His smile had widened at the at the almost devastated sound of Cristiano’s voice, “Yes?”

“Fuck, don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry.”

Cristiano had huffed a laugh, “Are you alone?”

“Uh... yeah." Leo had cleared his throat, “Antonella, she left just before I called you.”

The sound that Cristiano had let out had stood somewhere between a snort and a grunt, but Leo had failed to really put his fingers onto it, “Is she still your _girlfriend_?”

 _Jealously_. He had realised that it had been _jealousy_ that had caused the Portuguese accent to seem even thicker than it usually had been, and God, the shiver that it had send through him had been almost ridiculous. “I broke up with her.” Sure, it had been a slight twist of the truth, but a lie white enough to not fuel any guilty conscience.

“Leo...”

“She’s no longer my girlfriend.”

There had been a short pause on the other end of the line, then, “I could kiss you right now, bebê. I really want to kiss you right now.”

“I’d like you to.”

The silence that had followed and had lasted for a moment had been a comfortable one and Leo had closed his eyes, listening to Cristiano’s soft breathing until the older man had spoken again, “Se você soubesse o que está fazendo comigo, se soubesse que eu já estou apaixonado por você.”

“You know that I don’t understand Portuguese, Cris,” he had said with a subtile whine, smiling at the snort that the older man answered with.

“Oh I know. I’ll teach you one day, bebê.” There had been a few louder voices coming closer and Leo had already known that it would mark the end of their call. “Fuck,” Cristiano had said with a voice almost low enough to have been a whisper, “Sergio and Piqué are coming - listen bebê, I’ll call you tomorrow okay? Trust me.”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” The voices had grown louder, and then Cristiano had hung up. Leo had shaken his head, had looked at the phone in his hand and had snorted as he had stood up to put it onto his nightstand. He had not lost his smile when he had disappeared into the adjoined bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter turned out _much_ longer than I planned it but oh well, decided not to split it into two parts after all. Here it goes, I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Cristiano’s 30th birthday, 05. February 2015.**_

Leo and Cristiano had only managed to see each other three weeks later, weeks during which they had fallen into a routine of texting and calling each other every time that their busy days had allowed it. The younger man may not have said it, but he had honestly cherished those times and the fact that Cristiano had seemingly enjoyed them just as much would cause his heart to somersault over and over again with every message that Cristiano would send him. When Cristiano had invited him to visit him in Madrid for the occasion of Cristiano’s 30th birthday during one of their late-night phone calls, he had accepted the invitation within a heartbeat and had proceeded to book a flight while the Portuguese had exclaimed his excitement on the other end of the line.

 _Cristiano:_ [When will you come today?]

[I’ll be there at five if that’s okay?]

 _Cristiano:_ [Sure, that’s fine! I can’t wait to see you bebê ❤️😘]

So Leo had bought presents for both Cristiano and Junior, had packed his suitcase and had flown over to Madrid. Neymar had asked him about it, of course, but he had managed to come up with some sort of an excuse as for why he had decided to visit the enemy, as his best friend stated, but Neymar had eased up on him after Leo had promised that he would send a postcard and bring him a souvenir. Coming to Madrid had felt weird. He had only ever visited the city when he and Barça had been due to play there and he never would have expected to visit it because Cristiano had invited him to his home.

 _To his home_ , not to a random hotel room in which they would have spend their limited time together in bed. It had only been after he had accepted the invitation, had booked his flights and the hotel that Leo had found himself growing incredibly nervous at the prospect that he may not have been the only who had been invited. The possibility of having to spend the evening in the presence of Ramos, Kroos and other Blancos had not been an especially appealing one. He had been honestly excited to see and be with Cristiano again, but he had failed to calm the nervousness that had collected in the pit of his stomach when he had driven his rental car onto the driveway of Cristiano’s estate on the outskirts of Madrid at exactly 4:57 PM. 

Leo had stared at the house for a few moments, with his heart beating as strong against his rips as if he had just finished his workout, before he had shifted the car into reverse and had parked it in one of the free slots. There had not been another car in sight other than the sleek black Lamborghini which had stood in front of the garage - one of Cristiano’s car. He had clamped the presents he had brought under his left arm as he had gotten out of the car, a smile growing on his face when he had made his way over to the entrance door. It had been pathetic, really, but he had missed the Portuguese and while talking and texting had been better than nothing at all, it had only made his desire grow so much bigger. In more than one meaning of the word. 

He had drawn in a deep breath to steady himself, had wiped his free hand at his trousers prior to bringing it up and ringing the doorbell. Leo had nearly stopped breathing as he had waited for the door to open, and when what could have been half a minute had passed, he had felt a sharp twinge in his chest. What if Cristiano had changed his mind in the meantime? Blinking hard to refuse the burning in his eyes to intensify, he had taken a step back and had just been about to turn around and run back to his car when the door had suddenly been opened. The sound of frantic crying had reached Leo before he had seen Cristiano. 

The older man had appeared unusually disheveled as he had stood in the opened door, bouncing his crying one-year-old son in his arms. That he would ever see Cristiano Ronaldo in such a state certainly had not been what Leo had expected. Cristiano’s hair had not been coiffed to perfection and while the older man had been dressed in a fine dress shirt and an equally expensive pair of dress pants, there had been non-identifiable stains on his shirt. “Leo,” Cristiano had breathed his name as if Leo’s presence had been a miracle and the smile that had grown on his face had been, albeit a bit stressed, undeniably honest.

“Did I... come here too early?”

“Oh no, no of course not. No, please come in bebê. I’ve been waiting for you.” Leo had returned the smile, and Cristiano had shifting his squirming and crying son in his arms as he had leaned down to place a quick kiss onto Leo’s lips. “I’m sorry,” the taller man had muttered into the kiss, kissing Leo once more before Junior’s squirming had forced him to pull back and change the hold he had on the small child, “I’m really sorry about this, I...”

“It’s okay, Cristiano. It’s nothing that you have to apologise for.”

Cristiano had seemed visibly relieved, so as if he had expected Leo to be either angry or disappointed, and had put Junior down onto the floor. The boy had not liked it, of course. Both men had grimaced at the volume that Junior’s cries had reached, “Give me your jacket, bebê. And you can leave your shoes right there.” 

Putting the wrapped presents aside on a nearby commode, Leo had allowed Cristiano to help him out of his jacket. The older man’s hands had brushed against his back more than it would have been necessary as he had done so, had lingered between his shoulder blades for a moment too long to have been a gesture of mere friendliness. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” the Portuguese had said with a tone that only could have been described as a whine, “he’s been like that for _hours_ , Leo. And look what he did to my shirt!” There had not been any real anger in Cristiano’s voice as he had vaguely pointed at the various stains on his shirt. Leo had known just how much he had loved his young son, and how unjustified the media’s accusations of Cristiano being a bad father had been. What had it mattered that Junior had come from a surrogate mother. He had been about to say something, but the words had died in his throat when Cristiano had taken his face into gentle hands, stroking the smooth skin over his cheekbones. “I missed you a lot, bebê.”

“I missed you too.”

Cristiano’s face had been hovering above his, their lips so close that they had brushed against each other but neither of them had tried to initiate a kiss. Not with Junior still crying on the floor between them, the toddler’s chubby hands had been clinging onto the fabric of his father’s trousers as he had stemmed himself onto unsteady legs. “Oh por favor, pare de chorar meu amor. Por favor...” the Portuguese had muttered, looking as if he had been close to breaking down into tears himself when he had bend down to lift Junior back into his arms.

Leo had felt something flicker through him as he had watched how Cristiano had combed his fingers through the child’s hair and had kissed his temple, “Cris?”

“Yes?”

“Would it be okay for me to hold him a bit?”

“Yeah of course. You don’t have to ask, bebê,” Cristiano had answered and had offered him a smile when he had stepped forward to pass Junior over to him.

“Come here you,” Leo had muttered as he had gently taken the crying boy and had lifted him into his arms. He had smiled when the boy had looked up at him with wide eyes, wiping at Junior’s tear-strewn face after he had rested him on his hip. “What’s troubling you, hm? You’re giving your Pai quite a hard time, niño.” The boy’s body had still been trembling from the strain that the sobs had taken on him, but Junior had stopped crying the moment that Leo had taken a turn on carrying him. “That’s not a very nice present to treat your pai on his birthday, is it? But I brought a present for you as well, even though it’s not _your_ birthday. Do you want to open it, niño?” 

Junior had put two of his little fingers into his mouth to suck on them as if the child had actually thought about the offer, and Leo had laughed out loud at the coo the small boy had let out. He had missed how Cristiano’s eyes had been glued onto him when he had pressed a kiss into Junior’s soft curls. Cristiano had wrapped his left arm across around his waist, had gently pulled him closer and had kissed his temple, causing colour to rise into Leo’s cheeks. “Would you be okay with looking after him while I go and change, bebê? I promise that it won’t be long.”

He had been downright able to hear the smile in his boyfriend’s voice and had leaned into the touch for a moment before he had turned his head to smile at the Portuguese. “Sure, we’ll manage, Cristiano.” He had bounced the then quiet one-year-old once, smiling at the boy, “Won’t we, niño?”

Both Cristiano and him had smiled at the cooing sound that Junior had apparently answered with. “Okay then, bebê. The living room is that way,” Cristiano had gestured to the far end of the quite spacious vestibule, “ and I’m sorry, I didn’t plan it to be like this.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay.”

Their gazes had sought and kept each other for a handful of seconds, only breaking apart when Cristiano had leaned down to kiss both Leo’s and Junior’s head, “Seja bom com ele, Junior. Não o assuste. Thank you for watching him, bebê.”

Leo had nodded, and with that the older man had removed his arm from around Leo’s waist and had jogged off to the stairs. He had watched Cristiano go, a faint blush on his cheeks, and he probably would have continued to stare at the then empty stairs if it would not have been for Junior’s childlike babbling that had caused him to snap back into the there and then, “Someone wants to open their present, hm?”

“Da!”

Huffing a laugh, he had run his free hand through Junior’s dark curls and had turned towards the commode. His smile had widened impossibly when the child had squirmed in excitement, “Do you know which one is yours, niño?” _My God_ , Leo had thought as he had watched how Junior had eyed the two wrapped-up presents with all the seriousness that a one-year-old only could have possessed, _he’s too adorable_. He had eventually picked up the bigger one of the presents and had offered it to Junior, who had wrapped his tiny arms around it within an instant.

“Da! Da!”

“Yes,” Leo had answered with a kind voice, “that’s your present, Junior.” The wrapping paper had crackled as the child had kept a firm on the present, staring down at it while continuing to make incoherent babbling noises. “We’ll open it right away.” He had shifted the position of the boy a tad bit so that it had been more comfortable for the both of them and had begun to walk down the entrance hall to where Cristiano had said the living room could be found.

If Cristiano would have asked him, Leo would have needed to say that he had been surprised by just how open the vestibule seemed to be. Despite the vast open space, however, it had felt rather homely and lived-in. Some of Junior’s toys had been strewn around and Leo’s lips had twitched into a smile when he had spotted a pacifier on the same side table that had held a picture of Cristiano and his first Ballon d’Or. This had been it - the side of Cristiano Ronaldo that had rarely ever been considered, the side of him which Leo had found himself falling at a steady pace for. He would not have managed to recall how many photos of Junior and himself Cristiano had send him, or how often their late-night phone calls had revolved around Cristiano’s son. Leo had not really perceived that he leaned his cheek against Junior’s head as he had walked. 

The living room had been just as vast, but all the more lived in. Large windows had been draped with white curtains that had seemed to have been perfectly coordinated with the walnut furniture and it had only been after Leo had turned around once that he had seen that the rooms had merely been divided by wide doorways, so that his gaze had reached the kitchen on the other end of the ground floor. He had been utterly amazed by what Cristiano’s home had to offer, to say the least. Proofs of Cristiano being a single father could have been found wherever he had looked. A box with toys had stood next to the leather sofa on which at least six people could have comfortably sat on, a stack of children’s books had been placed on the coffee table and an entire array of stuffed animals had claimed one half of the spacious couch. Photos of Junior, Cristiano and Cristiano’s mother had been everywhere - on the side tables, the walls, the shelves.

Even if Leo would not have known it before, one look through the living area would have told him how much Cristiano had adored his son. Cristiano’s various trophies had stood on a shelf over the large TV and Leo had laughed out loud when he had spotted a stack of FIFA games next to the PlayStation, together with half a dozen controllers. Leo would not have been surprised if the Portuguese would play himself in that game. 

“Da!”

“¿Oh no eres un mocoso impaciente? Bien, desenvuelvamos su regalo.” Leo had shaken his head, but his smile had only widened as he had crossed the room to sit himself down on the couch with Junior in his lap. The boy had cooed once more and had leaned back against Leo’s chest, his tiny chubby hands grasping at the wrapping paper. “Come on, I’ll help you.” Junior had blown raspberries as Leo had loosened the ribbon. “¿No eres el más dulce?” He had kissed the top of the boy’s head and had gently taken Junior by his wrists so that they could open the present together. “Ohhh, who’s that?”

Much to his relief Junior had been absolutely delighted by what he had brought for him. The boy had whined and had wriggled in an attempt to get out of Leo’s arms and closer to the teddy bear. Leo had pulled Junior back to prevent the child from falling off his lap, successfully stilling Junior’s antics when he had held the teddy bear within the boy’s reach. He had smiled down at Junior. The boy had held his arms firmly wrapped around the stuffed animal, babbling and cooing incoherently. It had been too adorable. “I take it that you like him, then. I hope that your Pai won’t be too mad that I bought him for you.” 

When Leo had stumbled over the teddy bear in the Camp Nou store, he simply had to buy it. Not only because of the large 10 that had stood on the back of the stuffed animal’s Barça jersey, but because it had been absolutely adorable and he had known that Junior would love it the second that he had seen it. And as it had seemed, Leo had been right. The boy had refused to loosen his hold on his newest toy, keeping it securely within the grasp of his tiny hands while Leo had bounced him softly on his knees. “There you two are.”

How much time had passed until he had gotten to hear Cristiano’s voice again, Leo had not known, but it had surprised him enough to make him gasp a bit, “Cristiano.”

It would not have been an exaggeration if Leo would have said that his heart had nearly jumped out of his chest when the Portuguese had walked over to him and Junior. God, he had looked _incredible_. Dressed in a set of dark blue suit pants, a fitting shirt and his hair coiffed to flawless perfection, Cristiano very well could have come straight from one of his photoshoots and Leo had needed to look away. Despite all the years that he had stood in the public eye, he had always failed to control his blushing when he had been around Cristiano. The older man’s smile had been warm as he had plopped down onto the couch beside Leo, allowing his knee to bounce against the Argentine’s when he had leaned over to take Junior and lift him onto his lap, “Espero que você tenha se comportado enquanto eu estava fora.” Leo had barely stopped himself from scooting away, suddenly feeling that he had disturbed the scene between Cristiano and his son and as if the other had noticed it, he had looked up and had smiled at him. “Did he cry, bebê?”

He had shaken his head, managing a small smile in response at the near blinding one that had stood on the other’s face, “No, he’s happy ever since I gave him his present.” Leo’s smile had slowly turned into a full-on grin when Cristiano had inspected the stuffed animal that his son had been holding onto so tightly and he had been able to see the Portuguese’s face fall. It had even widened when Junior had let out an incoherent sound of childlike enjoyment, cuddling the stuffed animal closer. “And? Do _you_ like it too?”

“You _didn’t_.”

He had pressed his lips together when Cristiano had looked at him, slowly raising one eyebrow as if he had expected Leo to apologise and claim that it had been a prank, “He likes it though, doesn’t he?” The fact that the older man had mastered the typical _dad_ stare had only caused Leo’s grin to widen while his cheeks haid gained a deeper shade of pink.

“He’s a child, _Lionel_. Children love all teddy bears. Even this... abomination of one.” Cristiano had not been as mad as he had pretended to be, Leo had known that even before the corners of the Portuguese’s mouth had twitched as he had thrown a knowing gaze at the pile of stuffed animals.

“Right,” he had drawled out, looking over at the other toys, “which is why he never touched the ones that you bought him, yeah?”

“Eu dobraria você sobre meu joelho e lhe daria umas palmadas se o Junior não estivesse aqui.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Da!” Junior had put an end to their playful squabble when he let go of the teddy bear to reach out towards Leo with grabby hands and Leo had felt his breath hitch, barely noticably so, at the look that he had received from Cristiano when he had come after the boy’s request. He had given the stuffed animal back to Junior, who had captured it in his arms again.

“You won’t take it away from him, will you?”

“Are you serious right now, Leo? Do I look like I’d take my son’s toys away?”

“You look good,” he had blurted out before Leo could have stopped himself and his face had heated up from one second to another. Considering what had happened between them before, he really should not have been as embarrassed about it. 

Cristiano had chuckled with a deep, _vibrating_ baritone sound and had moved closer to him to nuzzle his nose against his temple before placing a rather chaste kiss onto Leo’s cheek, “I always try to look my best for you, bebê.” He had no doubt that two bright red blotches had been burning on his face when Cristiano’s fingers had carded through the short hairs in the back of his neck. If it would not have been for Junior in his lap, they surely would have kissed. Leo would have liked to be kissed again, he would have liked it very much and if he would have judged by the way that Cristiano had looked at him, the Portuguese had thought the same. “Come, let’s go.”

“Hm?”

Cristiano had snorted, “I didn’t invite you to babysit. Dinner’s waiting for us.”

The hand had lingered in the back of his neck for a few moments longer before it had pulled away. He had not expected Cristiano to have cooked, but then again, Leo had not known what he had expected when he had come to Madrid in the first place, “You cooked?”

Cristiano, who had been the first to stand up from the couch, had turned around to face him with a raised eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, “Seriously, bebê. Just what kind of man do you think I am?”

Leo had pressed his lips together in response, feeling rather stupid as he himself had stood up, holding Junior in his arms, “I just... I never thought that you and I would ever...”

He had, at the first second, been surprised when Cristiano had stepped forward and had closed his arms around him, but Leo had releases a breath he had not been aware of having held in and had leaned his cheeks against Cristiano’s chest, careful as to not squash Junior between them. “I never thought so either, bebê, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Leo’s heart had somersaulted when he had felt the taller man’s lips ghosting over the shell of his ear, “I’m very happy that you’re here.”

“Thank you for inviting me, Cristiano.”

The Portuguese had laughed softly, his fingers merely skimming over the curve of Leo’s ass when he had removed his arms from around the younger man. “You’re welcome, bebê,” he had purred, “now come, I worked too hard for the food to get cold.”

Leo had wordlessly followed after Cristiano, his heart racing in his chest. He had tried to not gape at the way that the muscles of Cristiano’s shoulders had shifted underneath the tight fabric of his dress shirt. Thankfully, his attention had been diverted when Junior had shifted in his arms to thrust the teddy bear right up into his face as if the boy had wanted to show off his new toy. That Cristiano had watched him, he had not noticed, “Oh you’re so _cute_ , niño!”

“Da!”

“Yes you are!”

Leo had stopped in his tracks and his head had soared when Cristiano had vaguely gestured at the set table. He never would have been able to deny the fact that the one who had set it, _Cristiano_ , had put a lot of thought into it. Everything had seemed to fit together but it had been the bouquet of lavender roses, which had been placed in the middle of the table, that had caught his attention and had kept it for a good few seconds. Leo would have liked to reach out and touch the soft petals, to say how much he had liked them. He had no doubt that Cristiano had known just what the meaning of the roses stood for. His heart had somersaulted anew. _It’s a date_.

“Bebê?”

The blush on Leo’s cheeks had darkened as he had stuttered, “It’s-It’s beautiful, Cristiano,” and had turned his head to smile at Cristiano, who had been watching him unobtrusively.

“Não sei por que você é sempre tão gentil comigo,” the Portuguese had replied in his mother tongue and had moved closer to Leo to kiss his temple before he had announced that he would go and get their dinner. Leo had watched him leave, had continued to keep his eyes on Cristiano as the man had busied himself at the counter of the nearby kitchen. He had not been able to explain why the sight had enchanted him so. The squirming child in his arms had eventually enabled him to break free from the spell and Leo had kissed the top of Junior’s head as he had sat him into his high chair, smiling at the boy’s babbling when he had closed the safety harness around his waist. He had straightened at the groan that he had heard from behind him, “ _God_ , bebê.” 

Cristiano had returned from the kitchen, carrying a water carafe, garnished with raspberries and mint leaves, in one hand and a coaster in the other. The Portuguese had placed the coaster on the table and had set the carafe down onto it before he had taken Leo by the wrist, had pulled him close and had wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his face against the shorter man’s neck. “God, bebê,” Cristiano had repeated, “you and your ass...” Leo’s breath had hitched the feeling of Cristiano’s lips on his skin as much as from the words themselves and his body had arched forward when Cristiano had run a hand down the curve of his back until it had been splayed over his ass, “I always had a thing for it.”

“Cris-”

“ _Daaa!_ ”

Leo had laughed while Cristiano had groaned and had buried his face in Leo’s hair, muttering a curse under his breath. “And that’s why you think twice before you decide to have kids, Cristiano.”

Cristiano’s head had snapped up and he had shot Leo a gaze that could have come close to the ones that he had directed at him on the pit if it would not have been for the smile on his face, “Watch it, bebê.”

“Sorry.”

With Leo’s arms then child-free, the Portuguese had finally been able to kiss him in a proper manner. He had whimpered when Cristiano had cupped his face to draw him impossibly closer, when Cristiano’s tongue had gently claimed its way past his lips. They had broken apart sooner than either of them would have wanted it, but with Junior slapping his palm onto the table of his high chair it had been for the better. “Take a seat, bebê. I’ll go and get the food.”

Cristiano had hurried off to the kitchen once again and Leo had hesitated for the split of a second before he had chosen the place to Junior’s right, who had been seated at the head of the table. His smile had widened even more when Junior had gurgled and cooed, showing off his small teeth in a wide smile before he had returned to chew on his forefinger. He had watched the one-year-old until Junior had reached out with one of his hand, grabbing into the air in a wordless request that Leo had gladly come after. His smile had turned wider when Junior’s hand had closed around his forefinger and had shaken his hand while giggling happily, bringing Leo’s finger up to gnaw on it instead. “Ow, don’t eat my finger, niño,” he had said with fake hurt in his voice, “I’m sure that your Papá has cooked something for you as well.”

“Eu lhe disse para não incomodá-lo, Junior.”

“Da!”

A smile had stood on Cristiano’s face as he had returned into sight, carring a plate in one and bowl in his other hand. He had set the plate down onto the table in front of Leo, “I hope that you’ll like it, bebê.”

“I’m sure that I will. Thank you, Cristiano.” 

Leo’s eyes had fluttered close when Cristiano had kissed the top of his head before the Portuguese had moved around the table to place the plastic bowl on the tray of Junior’s high chair. “Don’t throw the bowl again,” Cristiano had said with a hint of sternness, holding the bowl in place when his son had grabbed at it with both hands, clearly excited about his meal. “Ou então me ajude Deus!”

“Da!”

“Bebê, could you...”

“Of course.” 

They had smiled at each other and Leo had blushed, as Cristiano’s eyes had lingered on him until the older man had disappeared to the kitchen once more. The bowl had been filled with what had looked like a mixture of mashed potatoes and spinach and Leo had made sure that the toddler would not succeed to pull it free, blowing raspberries at the boy to keep him laughing. The food on his place had exuded an heavenly smell and the cod, as well as the shrimps, had looked as if they had come straight out of a five-star-restaurant’s kitchen. Sure, that Cristiano could cook had not been that much of a surprise but for him to have come up with something like that? Leo had not expected it. He had turned his attention away from Junior when Cristiano had sat down opposite him. 

“Water?”

“Yes please.” Cristiano had filled Leo’s glass, then his own. “Thank you,” Leo had said, his voice having dropped to a level only barely above a whisper without any apparent reason. Maybe it had been because of the somersault that his heart had made.

Cristiano had chuckled, “You’re welcome, bebê.” 

They had fallen into comfortable silence, but the peace had been disturbed when the Portuguese had decided to take his son’s teddy bear away. Cristiano had been right to do so, as the toy only would have gotten ruined with food stains if the boy would have continued to hold onto it. Junior could not have understood his father’s intention, of course. The smile had been wiped from Junior’s face within an instant and his eyes had filled with tears, his bottom lip protruding in a way that had tugged at the strings of Leo’s heart. He had clicked his tongue when the child had reached out towards the toy with both arms, making desperate little sounds as his attempts of grabbing it from where Cristiano had set it aside had failed. “No, nino,” Cristiano had said, leaning over to brush a curl away from his son’s forehead. “He can’t be with you while you’re eating.” 

It had been in vain. The first twin set of tears had rolled down Junior’s chubby cheeks and Cristiano had shot Leo an apologetic look, his gaze switching back and forth between his son and his boyfriend.

“Give it here.”

“Huh?”

Leo had snorted a laugh, “The teddy, Cristiano. Give it here.”

Cristiano had looked at him in what could have been disbelief before he had reacted and had handed over said stuffed animal, the toddler’s eyes following the movement, “What are you...”

“There.” Leo had smiled at Junior as he had propped the Barça teddy up onto the corner of the table, far enough so that he would not knock it down by accident but still out of the toddler’s reach, “Now he can eat with you, okay niño? Look, he’s right there. You don’t have to cry.” Junior had stopped crying just as fast as he had begun to and had stared at his teddy bear with wide eyes. “See? He’s not going anywhere, niño.”

“I didn’t know that you were so good with children,” Cristiano had said from where he had been intensely looking at him and Leo had felt heat rising into his face. Whatever it had been that had stood so boldly behind the brown of Cristiano’s eyes, he had failed to identify it.

“There never really was a... chance for you to find out, was there?”

“No, there wasn’t.” Leo had picked up his cutlery after that, carefully rolling up the tagliatelle on his fork. A few moments of comfortable silence had passed between them until Cristiano had, apparently out of thin air, snorted and chuckled to himself. Leo had straightened in his chair. “You know what, bebê? I should arrange for you to babysit Junior.”

It had been Leo’s turn to laugh when he had looked at the older man over the rim of his glass, “Excuse me?”

“When Madrid’s going to play in the next finale... You’ll be free then, right? So you could come here and watch him for me.” What Cristiano had said had left him speechless. Utterly, _embarrassingly_ robbed of his ability to speak. That the Portuguese had merely teased him could not have been missed of course, especially not with the wide grin on the other’s face, but Leo’s pride had not allowed him to simply let it rest on his shoulders. He had decided to give him the silent treatment instead and had merely looked at him for a moment longer before he had shifted his attention back towards his plate, very much aware of how little Cristiano had been able to stand his silence. “You know that I was joking, right?” Leo had taken a deliberately slow sip from his water. “ _Come on_ , don’t do this to me bebê. I’m sorry.” He would not have been able to keep silent for long anyway, and so he had snorted, had set his glass back down and had winked at Cristiano, who had leaned back into his chair with a groan. “You’re too much for me.”

“Am I now?”

Cristiano had tilted his head as he had looked at him, “You’ve always been, Leo. But I like it.”

“Cristiano...”

“We’ll talk later, bebê.”

Leo had been certain that he had felt his heart stuttering in its beating and had, to distract both his racing heart and mind, turned his attention to Junior instead. The boy had been happily eating away at his potatoes and spinach while Leo and Cristiano had talked, and by the time that Leo had turned to look at him again, Junior’s face had been covered with parts of his dinner. “Da!” Leo’s hand had shot out reflexively just before the toddler could have waved the arm that had been holding the spoon, thus preventing the spoonful of mashed potatoes to go flying.

He had smiled, had taken the spoon for Junior and had put half of the food back into the plastic bowl before he had given it back to the boy, “There you go, niño.” 

Junior had rewarded him with a toothy smile as he had grabbed the spoon again and had put it into his mouth. The one-year-old had made a gurgling sound and Leo had looked up from the remnants on his plate, surprised to see the boy holding out the then empty spoon for him to take it, but had not hesitated to set down his own fork and spoon to come after the toddler’s wish. Junior had smacked both of his tiny hands onto the tray of his high chair while he had scooped up a bit of the mashed food onto the small spoon. He had felt Cristiano’s eyes on him as he had done so, though had steadily kept his gaze on Cristiano’s son instead, hoping that the tremor in his hand had not been too noticeable. In hindsight it had been more than just a bit overwhelming how fast they had moved. They had spend _years_ in their position of proclaimed arch-rivals, had spend _years_ circling each other and along the way their antipathy and hate had turned into affection and love.

He had missed that Cristiano had snapped a quick photo of the scene with his iPhone, “Seems like you two don’t need me, huh?”

“Da!”

“I think that’s a no, Cristiano,” Leo had said with a laugh as he had scooped up another spoonful for Junior, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile when Cristiano had winked at him.

“Watch it, bebê. Mal posso esperar até o Junior dormir esta noite.” Throwing another glance at Cristiano and shaking his head, Leo had resumed to spoon-feed Junior until the bowl had been empty. The smile had never disappeared from his face as he had watched the boy, then feeling rather comfortable with the older man’s gaze resting on him. He had ended up being the last one to finish eating and when Cristiano had stood, he had done it him alike. “No, sit down,” the Portuguese had hurried to say, “I’ll take it.” 

Leo had rolled his eyes and had continued to rise into a standing position nonetheless, taking his as plate and Junior’s bowl before Cristiano could have argued again. “Just let me help, Cristiano,” he had retorted, moving around the table. He had failed to hide a gasp when Cristiano had leaned down to steal a quick kiss from him.

“If you insist, bebê.” They had not talked much as Cristiano had rinsed off the dishes before passing them on to Leo, who had neatly stacked in the dishwasher, Junior’s babbling acting as a constant background noise. It had felt more domestic than it probably should have. He had just put the last plate into the rack when a hand had laid itself into the small of his back, lingering there for no longer than a second before it moved to his ass. His breath had hitched involuntarily and the tips of his ears had begun to burn at the chuckle that had come from behind him. Leo might have close the lid of the dishwasher a bit harder than he had intended to. Cristiano had squeezed his ass, just once, and he had bitten onto his bottom lip at the kiss that was placed on the corner of his mouth. “We’ll talk later.” 

He had doubted that _talking_ had been what Cristiano had planned to do him, but Leo had been more than fine with it, “Okay.”

The older man had pulled away and had loosely taken his hand to lead him back to where Junior had still been seated in his high chair. Leo had smiled at the sight of the boy’s dropping eyelids. “Venha aqui, meu amor,” Cristiano had said with an uttermost gentle voice, barely raised above a whisper, as he had lifted his son out of the high chair and into his arms. “Vou te limpar e depois você pode dormir, okay?” Junior’s face had scrunched up in what Leo had believed to have been the most adorable way and Cristiano had guided his son’s head to his shoulders, combing his fingers through the boy’s dark curls. Cristiano had turned to looked at him, “He’ll get cranky if I won’t put him to bed.”

The apologetic note in the Portuguese’s voice could not have been missed and the fact that the other had felt the need to apologise had caused Leo’s heart to flutter, “That’s okay, I’ll just wait here.”

Cristiano’s eyes had roamed over his face as if looking for a sign that what he had said had not been the truth, and they had smiled at each other until Junior had mewled and had shifted in his father’s arms. “Calma, está tudo bem meu amor,” Cristiano had whispered, kissing the top of his son’s head. “There are drinks in the fridge, bebê. Take whatever you want.”

Nodding, Leo had mustered another smile and the older man had nodded back before he had turned his attention to his son, whispering to Junior as he carried him off. They had nearly been out of sight when Leo had spotted something out of the corner of his eye. “Cris, wait!” The blush had manifested itself on his face when the Portuguese had turned around with a questioningly cocked eyebrow. “You-You forgot this,” he had managed to bring out, though not without the damned stress-induced stutter that he had never managed to get rid of, and had held up the Barça teddy to give a reason for his sudden outburst. “Before he makes a fuss about it later.”

Cristiano’s eyebrow had lowered at the sight of the stuffed animal in Leo’s hand and Junior, who had been as good as asleep, had whimpered softly. “Oh you’re an angel, bebê, thank you,” the older man had said with a hushed voice and had walked over to meet Leo halfway, pressing a light kiss onto the shorter man’s cheek after Leo had passed the stuffed animal on to Junior, who had wrapped his short arms around it.

He had moved to the fridge when Cristiano and Junior had been gone for good, snorting to himself when he had found another two carafes of raspberry and mint leaves infused water, wondering whether he had let it slip that raspberries were his favourite fruit. Leo had taken out one of the carafes, had closed the door of the fridge with a push of his hip and had tried to remember in which cupboard Cristiano had stored the glasses. It had taken him three attempts to find the right one and he had been forced to raise onto the tips of his toes to reach said cabinet, cursing the way that they had been kept on the highest shelf. Leo’s phone had vibrated _seven_ _times_ in quick succession just as he had begun to pour the water and he had angled it out of the front pocket of his trousers after he had put the carafe back into the fridge. He had a hunch from who the text had been at the very first vibration.

 _Neymar:_ [LEO]

 _Neymar:_ [Wtf were you kidnapped or what?? 👀]

 _Neymar:_ [NOOO LEEEOOO 😭💔] 

_Neymar:_ [I TOLD YOU NOT TO FLY TO MADRID ON YOUR GODDAMN OWN]

 _Neymar:_ [Fuck if you’re actually kidnapped, Ronaldo’s behind it]

 _Neymar:_ [100%]

 _Neymar:_ [I’ll skin him alive ngl!!! With his fugly ass face!!! That mf!!!]

Having made sure that the Barça group chat had been muted before he had driven to Cristiano’s, Leo had not been all that surprised to see no less than 279 new messages in the group chat alone. And of course Neymar had worried about him when he had not responded to any text for a long while. He had laughed out loud, brining the phone closer to his face to record a voice message as he had left the kitchen en route for the living room. “Ney, you’ll drive yourself to a fucking heart attack if you don’t stop worrying so much! I’m fine, no one in Madrid tried to kill me. Yet, haha. No but I’m fine, really. I’m okay.” The check mark had turned blue within a second, something that had made him snort and shake his head when he had plopped down onto the black leather couch of Cristiano’s living room.

The fact that he had not told his best friend the truth had gnawed at him, but he had known well enough that it would not have been possible for him to actually tell Neymar what his motivation behind the visit to Madrid had been. So instead of saying “Cristiano invited me to his birthday after we made out in a public bathroom during the Ballon d’Or Gala and we practically confessed out feelings for each other” he had came up with a poor excuse that had gone somewhere along the lines of “There’s a new exhibition in the Prado that I really want to check out”. It had definitely been the worst excuse Leo had ever come up in his life, but Neymar, having no reason to doubt it, had believed him. Because really: Leo flying to Madrid to voluntarily meet with Cristiano Ronaldo himself? Downright impossible.

While his best friend had recorded his response, he had sipped on his water and had skimmed over the messages in the group chat. When he had muted it him, Gerard, Neymar, Marc-André and Luis had been discussing whether they should go to Croatia or Greece during their break in August. During the time that he had been gone, the conversation had shifted from their break to Leo’s possible kidnapping and Leo had rolled his eyes when he had heard Gerard’s voice message, where the Spaniard had claimed that he would simply force Sergio to participate in their revenge on Cristiano. It had been hilarious that they all had immediately suspected Cristiano.

Leo had no doubt that Neymar would have a stroke if he would have known on whose couch he had been sitting on. He had send another voice message, “Guys, I’m alright. I took a tour of the Prado and didn’t have my phone on me, sorry!” and had unmuted the group chat before he had clicked on Neymar’s chat.

“Oh meu Deus, I’m so glad that you’re okay. Sorry for spamming you though, haha.”

“It’s okay, Ney. It’s good to know that I’ll ever get kidnapped, you’d find out before anyone else would. Love you!”

 _Rafinha:_ [Leeeeo!]

 _Gerard:_ [You’re baaack!!!] 

_Luis:_ [Thank God, they were starting to get on my nerves 😒😂]

[Oh so you’d be annoyed if I’d ever get kidnapped? Thanks, Luis 😢]

 _Luis:_ [If you being kidnapped means that I’ll get to kick Ronaldo’s ass without breaking Ramos’ red-cards-record... 😽]

He had taken a restorative sip from his raspberry water before he had recorded another voice message, “What’s wrong with y’all? Necesitas aprender a mantener la calma!”, laughing as he had send it. Leo never would have considered that he would ever be kidnapped, let alone by Cristiano. Not even when their enmity had stood on its peak. He had grinned as he had played the message Luis had send into the group chat.

“What’s wrong with me? Simply said, _Lionel Andrés Messi Cuccittin_ , I don’t think it’s too absurd to say that Ronaldo wouldn’t hesitate to keep you off the pitch so that he’ll win more trophies than you. And by off the pitch I mean hiring thugs to kidnap you out of the Prado and locking you in basement. He’d probably only let you out after the Ballon d’Or, that hijo de puta.” Luis’ words had send a stab into his chest but before he could have typed that Luis had gone too far, Gerard had answered. Or Leo had thought it had been his close friends.

He had been proven wrong when he had pressed “play” and the well-known voice of none other than Sergio Ramos had emerged from the speaker. “Watch your fucking mouth Suárez or I’ll fuck you up for good! Don’t talk shit about Cristiano you fucking asshole!”

Thankfully, Luis had kept his cool against the hot-blooded Spaniard,[LMAO @Geri watch your boyfriend]

 _Gerard:_ [Sorry he took my phone, you know him 🙄]

 _Luis:_ [All cool bro 😽]

Neymar had send a voice mail next. “So anyway, have y’all seen what Ronaldo posted on Insta?”

Marc-André answer had been immediate, “You’re following him? Wow, talk about betrayal. Das ist ja unglaublich, echt.”

“Well you gotta acknowledge the enemy, Marc! _Anyway_ since y’all probably didn’t see it I’ll send you a screenshot.”

Leo had rolled his eyes, had locked his phone and had set it aside. He had loved his friends, he really had, but they yet had to learn how to not overreact. It had only been when his phone had been practically blown up that he had picked it up anew. He had frozen when he had unlocked it and had stared down at the picture that Neymar had send into the chat, his heart stuttering. 

It been a screenshot of Cristiano’s story and if it would not have come from Neymar, Leo would have tried to convince himself that it had been a fake. But there it had been, the table that he and Cristiano had sat at together. The photo had been taken earlier that day when the plates had been untouched and sunlight had fallen into the dining room, probably right after the Portuguese had finished setting it, and Cristiano had chosen an angle that had put the bouquet of lavender roses in the centre of the photo. The caption had consisted of nothing more than a single red heart. Not that there had been a need for an extraordinarily long one. Leo had no idea what to do, let alone what to _write_ and so he had merely followed the chat with a burning face.

 _Gerard:_ [LMAO BRUH HAHA 😂😂😂]

 _Luis:_ [What poor soul’s gotten within Ronaldo’s reach this time? 😹]

 _Neymar:_ [@Luis I literally just thought the same HAHA]

 _Gerard:_ [Sergio’s just as surprised, Ronaldo apparently didn’t tell him anything???]

 _Luis:_ [Wasn’t he with Irina?]

 _Gerard:_ [Yeah but she left him for an actor a few months ago and Sergio’s saying that he’s been single ever since 👀]

Leo’s thumbs had hovered over the screen as he had tried to come up with something, but had discarded his plan when he had seen that Neymar had been recording a voice message. He had listened to it as soon as he had received it. “Yeah but like... what’s really surprising me is that he’s posting about it? I mean he never did that, hell I can’t even remember the last time he posted something with Irina? Like look at his profile, it’s only ever him and his son or something football related.”

 _Marc-André:_ [Yikes y’all are really turning into CR7 fanboys 🤢]

 _Neymar:_ [Shut up Marc, it’s important 🙄]

 _Marc-André:_ [How so???]

 _Neymar:_ [Keeping track on your enemy???]

The muffled music that had played in the background of Neymar’s voice message had finally given him an opportunity to write something without grazing the topic that his boyfriend had been at the moment. [What’s the song? 👌🏻️]

 _Neymar:_ [[Slayyter - Daddy AF](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Pj9iXYfe607U62YwSF5rC?si=OYgcViAATdet3lNmJs6F-A) @Leo]

 _Gerard:_ [Omg naaahhh 😭😭😭]

 _Luis:_ [Bruh you good @Geri?]

 _Rafinha:_ [???]

 _Gerard:_ [Ser fucked me in his car to that song 🥴] 

_Luis:_ [SKSKSK WHAT]

 _Neymar:_ [BRUH]

 _Marc-André:_ [Oh mein Gott...]

 _Rafinha:_ [YALL NASTY HAHAHA I LOVE IT]

 _Luis:_ [LORRRD but aren’t you too damn tall for that???]

 _Gerard:_ [The Range Rover works just fine for me @Luis 😏]

 _Rafinha:_ [ **OOOOF** ]

 _Marc-André:_ [Man I could’ve lived without that image in my mind JESUS 😭]

 _Neymar:_ [Sounds lit tho @Geri might try & hint at James]

The voice message from Gerard, aka Sergio, had made Leo laugh for good. “Now listen here you little shits,” the Spaniard had snarled, but it had been obvious that Ramos’ anger had, for once, been a faked one. “Go and think of your own ways to fuck _your_ boyfriends or girlfriends or whatever but let me fuck _my_ boyfriend in _my_ car without _you_ Blaugrana assholes copying _my_ move! Shit! What’s next? Y’all wanna know what kind of lube I use?”

 _Rafinha:_ [There’s really nothing that I can say except **OOOF** ]

Leo had played the message once more, simply because Gerard’s gasp of shock had been too funny to him, shaking his head at the antics of the group chat. “Is that Sergio, bebê?” He had been proud that he had neither flinched nor gasped himself when Cristiano’s baritone voice had suddenly been audible right beside him. The Portuguese had stood behind the sofa, his hands stemmed on the backrest beside Leo’s shoulders and he had shot him a teasing grin when he had turned around to get a look at him.

“Uh yeah,” Leo had said quite frankly after having cleared his throat, painfully aware that the blush had still been prominent on his face.

“Since when are you in contact with _Sergio?_ ” Cristiano had moved around the couch to sit down beside him. The top button of his dress shirt had been opened and the sleeves had been rolled up, accentuating his toned forearms and Leo had found himself unable to look away. His heart had somersaulted when Cristiano had laid his arm across the backrest to do no more than draw blind circles on Leo’s upper arm with the tip of his middle finger. 

“I-I’m not,” he had retorted, his voice low and undeniably sheepish, “really, I’m not. He used Gerard’s phone to send a message into our Barça group chat. That’s all.”

Cristiano had not answered. Not verbally, at least. His eyes had lingered on Leo while his finger had continued to draw its circles on Leo’s arm and when he had leaned closer, teasingly slowly, Leo had responded to it by leaning back without realising that he had moved at all. He had gasped, his breath hitching barely noticeably so, as the back of his head had come in touch with the soft padding of the couch’s backrest. The brown of Cristiano’s eyes had been dark enough for Leo to fear that he might lost himself in them as the taller man’s had suddenly been hovering above him and he had gasped again, just as strangled, at the first touch of Cristiano’s lips on his cheek. They had not been kissing him, had rather explored the softness of his shaved cheek for what could have been endlessly long seconds before they had pressed the first, gentle kiss onto a corner of Leo’s mouth.

He had felt his heartbeat resounding in his throat when the pair of lips had brushed over his to kiss the other corner of his mouth and had felt heat rising into his face at the first teasing touch of Cristiano’s tongue against his bottom lip. It had been a touch that had lasted for the mere split of a second, a swirl that had disappeared within an instant but by the way that the Portuguese’s eyes had darkened impossibly further, the thoughts that had come up in Leo’s mind must had been visible on his face. Pinpricks had crept up his spine at the realisation, making him shiver once. _Cristiano had been able to read him like an open book_. Even though his eyelids had been fluttering, he had tried to keep his eyes fixed on the breathtakingly beautiful face above him. My God, how beautiful Cristiano had been.

Leo had been robbed of his breath and his eyelids had stopped obeying him, falling shut, when he had been kissed. He had wholeheartedly appreciated the chaste little kisses and touches that the two had shared over the course of the evening, but nothing could have come close to the kiss that Cristiano pulled him in that very moment. It had been as if the other had known just where his buttons could be found, just how he could make him melt within a second. Cristiano, with his entire towering presence, had moved from one blink of an eye to another, had leaned down to capture Leo’s mouth with a swirl of his tongue and the slow, sinfully precise movements of his lips. It had elicited a low, needy whine from him which had seemingly been just what Cristiano had been waiting for.

The hand that Cristiano had not needed to keep himself from crashing down on Leo had sprawled itself out on Leo’s cheek, using the newly found graps to tilt his head into a better angle for the kiss to be deepened. Cristiano’s thumb had lazily stroked the skin over his cheekbones while his other had dug into the back of Leo’s neck. His fear had been, as it had turned out, justified: he had lost himself in the older man’s presence. He had blindly brough both of his hands up to Cristiano’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the tensed muscles and the dark blue fabric as if the Portuguese had not paid at least 500€ for the dress shirt.

When Cristiano’s hand had disappeared from his face, had moved down his chest with a broad gesture and when Cristiano’s arm had curled around his waist, Leo had managed to do little more than to gasp before he had been pulled up and had found himself straddling Cristiano’s lap instead. His arms had laid themselves over Cristiano’s shoulders and once he had caught up with the position that he had gotten manhandled into, he had taken the initative and had kissed him, cupping his hands against the broadness of Cristiano’s neck. Their breathing had sped up, their lips only parting when their lungs had begun to protest from the lack of air and Leo had absentmindedly begun to circle his hips as Cristiano had roamed his hands over his body, had fumbled at the button strip of his shirt until he had managed to get the first few open. Leo’s head had fallen back and the first gasped moan had left him when Cristiano had discarded his mouth to kiss down the curve of his neck, nibbling and flicking his tongue against a spot low on his neck. “Cristiano,” he had breathed, his words blending into a moan at the first hint of teeth on his skin.

Cristiano had huffed a laugh against the side of his neck before he had closed his lips around the chosen spot of skin and Leo’s body had buzzed when he had felt the light burn of the bruise that had been sucked into his skin. He had brushed his fingers through the short hair in the back of Cristiano’s neck, wishing that he would not have gelled his hair so that he would have been able to do it properly. They had both moaned when Cristiano had pulled back to inspect the love mark. “Bebê, you have no idea how much I thought about having you in my lap like this,” Cristiano had whispered, seeking Leo’s gaze while his hands had moved down to form a seat underneath Leo’s ass, squeezing as much as the fabric of the jeans had only allowed it.

Biting his lip, he had flicked his eyes down to meet Cristiano’s. The way that he had been kneeling on the couch had given him a few centimeters of advance, though looking down at the Portuguese’s face had made him feel even more vulnerable than when it had been him who had been looked down at. Because right then, there had been no possible way for him to hide. “C-Cris...”

Cristiano had kissed him again, deep and slow. They had been in no hurry this time, they had been on Cristiano’s couch instead of in a public bathroom. “Posso ter você, bebê?” The already baritone voice of the older man had been thick with arousal and his accent, enough to make Leo shiver, “I’ve wanted this for so long...”

He may not have understood it all, but when he had grinded his hips down and Cristiano had moaned wantonly and had dug his fingers into Leo’s ass, there had been no doubt. They had both been hard in their trousers. “Me too. Fuck, Cristiano...”

Cristiano’s face had turned into a smirk, though it had lacked any of the venom that had radiated from it on the pitch, and Leo had gasped, hiding his face in the crook of Cristiano’s neck as his ass had been smacked, “Legs up, bebê.”

“What?” He had squealed when he had felt himself being move and his legs had wound around Cristiano’s waist as the Portuguese had stood from the couch and had hoisted him up at the same time. The fact that Cristiano had been strong enough to lift him as if he had weighed nothing had only increasing the throbbing of his trapped cock and he had squirmed to easy the strain. Cristiano had misinterpreted his squirming.

“Don’t worry bebê, I got you,” he had breathed right into Leo’s ear, “I won’t let you fall.” He would have liked to kiss Cristiano’s neck, to move his hand downwards and cup Cristiano’s cock to his trousers but had held himself back until they had left the stairs behind them and had reached the bedroom. It had certainly been wise that he had done so, for the taller man’s knees had bucked dangerously, “Bebê!” Leo had laughed and had kissed Cristiano’s neck in what had been supposed to be an apology. “Eu vou te foder tanto, você apenas espera,” the Portuguese had growled with no real bite behind his words after he had let Leo down onto the bed in a controlled fall. “Eu esperei anos por isso e acho que você não tem ideia do que realmente significa para mim, Leo. Eu te amo.” 

_Eu te amo. Yo te amo_. Even if he had not understood Portuguese, the two phrases had been similar enough and his heart had clenched hard enough for it to be painful. “I love you too,” he had whispered back, skimming his fingertips over the sharp edge of Cristiano’s jawline as the older man’s eyes had burned into him.

“You do? Really?”

The whispered question of disbelief had surprised him and had tugged at the strings of his heart all the same, even more so when Cristiano had leaned his cheek into the palm that he had brought up. It had been a strange situation, them simply looking at each other when both of their pants had been tented. “How could I not?”

Cristiano had muttered something that Leo would not have understood even if it would not have been in Portuguese and had discarded Leo’s lips after another kiss, which had blended borders which a desperate one, to place an array of kisses down the side of his neck. His hips had twitched when Cristiano had nibbled on the mark he had left on his skin earlier and the tension of arousal had returned to hover above them once he had felt Cristiano’s warm breath on his chest, his hands tugging at the fabric of the older man’s ridiculously expensive shirt almost pleadingly.

Thankfully, Cristiano had gotten the hint without Leo having to use his voice. He had doubted that he would have managed to bring a single sense-making word out of if he would have tried to. While he had understood him well enough, Cristiano had still brushed his thumb over his left nipple before he had brought his hands to the fly of Leo’s trousers, making the younger man blush furiously at the prospect of being as good as undresses while Cristiano had still been perfectly composed. His jeans had been tugged and pulled off, landing somewhere on the floor beside the bed with a soft _thud_ and Cristiano had been full-on grinning down at him when he had gotten off the bed in a fluid motion, had pulled the hem of his dress shirt out from underneath the waistband of his pants and had started to unbuttoned it with deft fingers.

Tanned, unblemished skin had come into sight, pulled tantalisingly over firm muscles and Leo had found himself unable to look away when Cristiano had shrugged off his shirt to drop it to the floor just as carelessly as he had discarded Leo’s. He had swallowed hard, with his heart beating up into his throat, in order to try and will the feeling of self-consciousness down that had been rising within him at the way that Cristiano’s eyes had burned into him. Compared to the Portuguese, he had been little more than average. In every aspect. Leo had pulled his lower lip between his teeth in an attempt to calm his racing heart when Cristiano had gotten back onto the bed once all that he had worn had been his CR7 underwear. He had failed to suppress a laugh when he had spotted it, rolling his eyes in a pretentiously exaggerated way. Of course _Cristiano Ronaldo_ would wear underwear from his own line.

His laugh had turned into a gasped moan when the taller man had returned to tower above him, driving one hand into his hair and tugging with just the right amount of controlled strength. “What are you laughing at, bebê?” The Portuguese’s voice had been teasing, his smirk wide and his eyes dark and scorching. He had looked like goddamn Zeus himself. Leo’s breath had hitched when Cristiano’s thumb had pulled his bottom lip out from where he had kept it captured between his teeth and had replaced it with the tip of his finger, leaning down to whisper right into Leo’s ear. “What’s so funny, hm?” I’d say that you rather like what you’re looking at. I can see it all over your pretty face, bebê.”

“Cristiano,” he had whined, closing his eyes and turning his face away when his self-consciousness had become too overwhelming.

Cristiano had clicked his tongue and had cupped Leo’s cheek to turn his face towards him again. “No hiding, bebê,” he had whispered, stroking his cheek, “you don’t have to hide from me,” and had shifted above him to press a light kiss onto his lips. “Leo, bebê, we don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with me-”

He had cut Cristiano off by taking his face into his and and pulling him down into a kiss, shifting underneath him. “I want you,” he had gasped once Cristiano had gained control over the kiss, “I want you so much, Cristiano.”

“You already have me, bebê.” The older man had kissed him, his lips lingering before he had sat back onto his heals. Leo he had absentmindedly wrapped his legs around Cristiano’s wait in response and if he would not have been so aroused, he probably would have been stunned by the way that Cristiano’s eyes had darkened even further once his fingers had dug into his thighs. A few long seconds had passed during which they had simply looked at each other, the moment eventually ending when Leo had felt Cristiano’s fingers hooking underneath the waistband of his underwear. Cristiano had tilted his head as his eyes had stayed fixed on him, silently asking for permission to continue and Leo had nodded and had drawn his knees to his chest so that Cristiano could free him of his underwear. It had been removed with two swift tugs. 

He had been hyperaware of his nakedness, but he had felt neither exposed nor vulnerable and Cristiano had leaned down to kiss him before he could have lost himself in his thoughts again. The Portuguese had had gently nipped at Leo’s lower lip and had slid his tongue into his mouth while his hands had roamed greedily over the younger man’s naked skin. “Look at you,” Cristiano had said, his voice laced with a heavy accent, “fuck, look at you...”

Leo had arched into the palm that had splayed itself on his chest to tease one of his nipples with ever-repeating strokes. His cock had since come fully to life, throbbing between them. He had shaken his head once, “Look at _you_ , Cris. You’re just... perfect,” and had moaned when Cristiano had moved his hands to his ass to squeeze at the soft flesh.

“I’m far from perfect and you know it, bebê.”

“Cris-”

“Hm?”

“Fuck me, por favor follame ahora.”

Cristiano had chuckled with a baritone sound, causing Leo to groan and playfully smack his boyfriend’s chest, “I still think that it’s amazing how fast you turn from shy to lewd. You know, you did look _oh so shy_ after you sucked me off.”

“Don’t...”

“I love it though. It’s cute.” The older man had grinned at him and Leo, feeling a bit more daring on the height of his arousal, had grinned back as he had reached down and had squeezed Cristiano’s cock through the fabric of his underwear. “Porra, olha o que você faz comigo,” Cristiano had groaned. He had caught himself rather fast, however, and had lifted Leo’s hips enough so that he had been able to smack his ass sharply, “Eu te amo.”

“Love you too.”

“Grab the lube for me, bebê.”

Leo had looked at Cristiano in open confusion, “How would I know where you keep your lube?”

“Under my pillow.”

His cheeks had heated up when the Portuguese had laughed and had stroked his thighs, “You-You prepared for this?”

Cristiano had made an approving noise, squeezing one of Leo’s thighs, “I hoped that we’d get to do this, bebê.”

Blindly reaching over his head, Leo had found the pillow and had slipped his hand underneath it, retrieving a condom and a bottle of lube that he had passed onto Cristiano. “Doesn’t it cost like 120€ per bottle?”

“Yes.”

Leo had snorted a laugh at the seriously tone Cristiano had answered with, “Seriously? It’s lube, Cristiano.” The older man had moved a bit further down the bed as he had popped open the bottle’s lid, and Leo had bitten onto his lip for a second as he had watched how Cristiano had proceeded to coat two fingers of his left hand with the clear gel, “The one for 5€ works just as well.”

“It might, but only the best gets to touch this _masterpiece_ of a body,” Cristiano had stated, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Leo’s breath had almost stalled in his throat when he had felt the first touch of Cristiano’s fingers against his puckered muscle. They had not pushed in, had merely traced the rim. “I get to touch you,” he had managed to bring out with a strained voice, “but I clearly remember when we beat you Blancos 3:0 and you stated that I’m _not that much better than avera_ -ah!” Two fingers had been pushed into him at once with a motion rough enough for it to hurt. He had not minded it all that much, had instead basked in the prospect of what had yet been to come and forced his muscles to relax.

“You are unbelievable,” Cristiano had brought out between clenched teeth as he had scissored his fingers, keeping a grasp on Leo’s waist with his free hand when he begun to work him open in earnest.

“Cr-Cris.”

Cristiano had stopped for a second, “It’s not your first time, is it?”

“Do you think that I would’ve sucked your dick in a bathroom if I’m a virgin?”

Laughing, the older man had stretched to plant a kiss onto his lips, “Just making sure, bebê. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Moving his hips against the digits, he had moaned when the fingers quickly found his sensitive spot and rubbed at it. A few more thrusts, a few more stretched and he had been begging Cristiano to hurry up, “I’m ready, _come on_.”

Cristiano had cursed under his breath and had pulled his fingers out of the younger man to rid himself of his underwear as fast as it had only been possible. Leo had watched how his boyfriend prepared himself, how he had rolled the condom onto his cock that had sprung free and had lubed himself up properly before he had moved back between his spread legs. He had bitten his lip when his hips had been grabbed, had been positioned in Cristiano’s lap and had felt the nudge of the cock’s head against his entrance. Both of their breaths had hitched in when Cristiano had pushed into him, slowly and steadily to allow him to accustom to the burn of being stretched to the rim, until Leo’s ass had come in touch with Cristiano’s pelvis. He had let out a low whine as he had gingerly wriggled his hips, holding onto the older man’s wrists.

“Are you okay, bebê?”

“You-You can move.” The Portuguese had moaned and had changed his position on the bed slightly so that he had been able to move more freely, pulling out until only the tip of his cock had remained inside Leo before he had thrusted forward, giving his hips a little snap with the last couple of inches. “Oh fuck, oh _fuck_ , _oh_ _fuck_ _!_ ”

Cristiano had fucked him just like Leo had always imagined he would. His movements had been rough, controlled and adept and he bad been utterly stunned by how good Cristiano had looked. He had radiated such perfect composure despite the blush of exertion that had coloured his tan cheeks, which in itself had been fascinating to Leo. To see him panting and with a beautifully reddened face above his own after a few mere minutes of fucking when the Portuguese would manage ninety minutes plus overtime running on the pitch had only doubled the arousal that Cristiano’s muttered words had caused to wash over him. “Olhe para você, bebê. Foda-se, olhe para você,” Cristiano had repeated without allowing the rhythm of his hips to falter. “Você sabe quanto tempo eu sonhei em ter você debaixo de mim assim, Leo?”

“Cris-” Leo had tried to comply with Cristiano’s movements as good as the position had only allowed him to, not taking his hands away from where they had been holding onto Cristiano’s wrists.

“I wanted you for _years_ , Leo. _Years_. Do you want to know since when?” He had whined low in his throat, squeezing his fingers around the wrists and his hole around Cristiano’s cock. His chest had heaved from the effort that it had taken him to not come on the spot. “Do you want to know when I wanted to fuck you the first time, hm? Você quer saber quando chamou minha atenção, bebê?” Cristiano’s voice had turned into a growl, his accent dripping from it, “When you scored those _fucking_ incredible goals against Getafe. Fuck, I could’ve _devoured_ you back then.”

 _2007\. Almost eight years ago._ Leo’s mouth had fallen slack and his eyes had burned as he had kept his gaze fixed onto the older man’s face. He had not been able to believe it, he had spend years with the certainty that Cristiano had hated him, had spend an unknown amount of time suppressing his feelings only to be told that... “I thought-I thought that you hate me.” The words had left him as a whisper, just as the first set of twin tears had escaped out of the corner of his. He had hurried to wipe them away. Cristiano had stilled when he had spotted his tears, though Leo had hindered him from pulling away by crossing his ankles behind Cristiano’s back. “Don’t,” he had gone on before he could have been interrupted, “please don’t stop, it’s okay.”

“I tried to hate you,” the older man had whispered, circling his hips where he had been fully seated inside of Leo. “I acted like an asshole because I didn’t know where to put my feelings towards you, Leo. So I tried to get myself to hate you and for you to hate me back.” It had taken some shifting around, but with Leo raising onto his elbows and Cristiano leaning over, they had managed to kiss. His legs had trembled where they had been wrapped around the Portuguese’s waist. “I obviously didn’t love you back in 2007,” Cristiano had whispered against his lips, his voice cracking, “but fuck, bebê, I’ve wanted you for so long and now you’re here with me.” They had both been close; Leo’s body had begun to tense up and he had felt Cristiano throbbing inside of him as the older man had begun to move again, fucking him slowly. “You’re so beautiful, Leo. Eu não te mereço, você é muito bom.”

He had been pushed over the edge when Cristiano had paid attention to his leaking cock and he had come with a cry, clinging onto Cristiano’s forearms as his muscle had clenched around the cock. Cristiano had followed him soon after, his fingers digging into Leo’s hips hard enough to surely leave bruises behind. They had kissed, sloppily and out of breath, until the Portuguese had pulled his softening cock out of him. Cristiano had rolled the condom off, had tied it and had thrown it into the direction of the trashcan before he had plopped down onto his back beside Leo and had drawn the younger man into his arms.

“But I have to admit,” Cristiano had slurred, clearly still riding the waves of his orgasm, “your hair looks better now.”

“And I’m really glad that you no longer spike your hair,” Leo had snorted, “you looked _ridiculous_ , Cristiano. And not all that good.”

The laugh that the other had let out had vibrated through Leo, who had since pillowed his cheek on the tanned chest, “I know, bebê. But it was the fashion of the time.”

“Mhm, sure it was.”

He had closed his eyes as he had snuggled up to Cristiano, absentmindedly tangling their legs together and basking when Cristiano had combed a hand through his hair and had pressed a kiss into it. “I’m so glad that you’re here, bebê.”

“Yeah, me too - ah fuck.”

“What is it?”

“I totally forgot to give you your present.” Leo had moved to sit up, but had squeaked when he had been pulled right back down.

“Don’t even think about it! You’re staying right here.”

He had not complained once Cristiano’s arms had closed around him once again, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome, bebê. I’m happy that you accepted.”

“I had to come up with a lie for my friends, but it worked.”

Cristiano had shifted, probably to get a better look at him, “What did you tell them?”

“That there’s a new exhibition in the Prado which I _really_ wanted to see.”

Another kiss had been pressed into his hair, “Neymar would probably have a heart attack if he’d see us right now, huh?”

“I’d be more worried about Luis. He firmly believes that you’re out to kidnap me, lock me in a basement and keep me there until the next Ballon d’Or.”

They had shared a laugh before a light and comfortable silence had laid itself over the bedroom. “I’ll miss you so much,” Cristiano had suddenly said, breaking the silence and tightening the embrace he had held him in. “I mean it. I’d love to have you here with me.” Tracing invisible patterns on Cristiano’s chest, Leo had pressed his lips together as a twinge of sadness had flickered through him. He had known that it had been impossible for him to stay, no matter how much he would have liked. It had been one of the disadvantages that had come with their job; while they had been lucky enough to fully live out their passion, they had been constricted by their duties at the same time. Leo had felt like bursting into tears, his emotions shaken up as an aftermath from his mind-blowing orgasm and he had closed his eyes as he had tried to focus on the steady beating of the other man’s heart instead. Cristiano had continued to stroke the dark strands of his hair, twirling one of them around his finger, “Leo?”

“Hm?”

“I want to have you, bebê,” the Portuguese had whispered. “All of you, and only you, Leo.”

“You already have me,” Leo had whispered back. “All of me, Cristiano.”

He had not been sure whether Cristiano had sighed quietly or if he had merely imagined that the other had. “We’ll manage. Look at Piqué and Sergio, bebê, they manage as well.”

“I don’t think that Gerard and Ramos are a great example,” he had said with a snort, “they nearly tear out each others throats during every single Clásico.”

Cristiano had chuckled and had drawn him impossibly closer, “That’s true, but they always fuck in the showers afterwards so I wouldn’t be too mad about you snapping at me on the pitch.”

“Right,” Leo had drawled out, “the _great_ Cristiano Ronaldo keeping his cool when his _archenemy_ Lionel Messi provokes him? I’d pay to see that.”

“Cale-se.”

“No, no creo que lo haga.”

“Pirralho.”

“Eres tan feo que hiciste llorar a una cebolla.”

He had gasped when Cristiano had growled and had moved at the speed of light to turn them over. The Portuguese had towered above him, a self-confident smirk on his face, “Now that’s a lie, isn’t it? Unless you’re an onion.”

Heat had shot into Leo’s face and he had managed to wriggle his way out from underneath Cristiano, smacking the back of his head with no real strength, “Forget it. I won’t feed your God complex.”

Cristiano had looked at him, slowly raising an eyebrow, and had laughed as he had rolled over onto his back, “I _am_ the best, bebê.”

“You are,” Leo had chirped, grinning when confusion had become visible on Cristiano’s face.

“What?”

“You are the best... here in Madrid.” They had both laughed, though Leo had squeaked when his backside cheek had been pinched none too kindly, “ _Cristiano!_ ”

“Mhm I sure do love the way you say my name, bebê.” He had stood onto his feet, groaning softly when the burn between his legs intensified as he had moved around the bed to collect his underwear from where Cristiano had discarded it to the floor. It had been a while since he had last had sex with another man and his body had let him know just well enough. Leo had felt Cristiano’s eyes on him as he had slipped his underwear back on before reaching for his jeans. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he had hurried to answer, turning to look at the other man, “more than that.” Cristiano had continued to look at him and while it had made him feel a bit uncomfortable, Leo had not had it in him to tell him off. If he would have been honest, he would have needed to admit that he had liked to be looked at in such a way. He had reached for his shirt, having forgotten that Cristiano had ruined it.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” the Portuguese had said as he had held it up, though the smirk on his face had exposed the lie his words had told. Unsure what to do, as he could not have possibly left wearing that, Leo had looked down at the torn fabric in his hands and had only raised his gaze when Cristiano had stood as well and had moved over to the large wardrobe. Leo had blushed at the sight of Cristiano’s naked body as the Portuguese had rummaged in one of the drawers. _A Greek god indeed_. Cristiano had let out a satisfied sound once he had found what he had apparently searched for, and had walked over to him to hand him a grey bundle, “Here, wear this. You can keep it, bebê.”

“Thank you.” A kiss had been placed onto his cheek before Cristiano had left his side to get dressed as well and Leo had held his breath as he had put his arms into the sleeves of the hoodie. It had been too large for him, of course, but it had not been the fact that he had nearly drowned in it that had caused him to freeze. He had heard Cristiano making a sound from behind him, but had not reacted to it. His eyes had been glued onto the large _Fly Emirates_ print that had graced the hoodie right underneath his chest. Cristiano had chuckled when he had moved to the mirror and had turned around to look at the back of the hoodie, gaping at the equally large _7_. He would have liked to make a biting comment despite the fact that his heart had somersaulted at the fact that he had been given the hoodie, but Cristiano had suddenly appeared behind him. 

“You look good in my clothes,” the older man had muttered, resting his hands on Leo’s hips as he had nuzzled his face into his hair. “Keep it.” Cristiano’s fingers had moved underneath the hem of the oversized piece of clothing to graze the skin of his Leo’s stomach, “Eu quero que você tenha algo de mim com você.” Unable to use his voice, Leo had simply nodded. He would be forced to keep the hoodie in hiding, but he had already decided that he would keep it. _It had smelled like him_. Cristiano had taken him by the hand once they had both been dressed, having exhanged his dress shirt and pants for a simple t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants instead. Neither of them had spoken as they had made their way to the lower floor of the mansion. “What did you get me for my birthday?”, the older man had purred once they had reached the bottom of the stairs, squeezing Leo’s hand.

“It’s still on the commode.” The Portuguese had huffed and Leo had felt laughter bubbling in his chest when the look on Cristiano’s face had resembled the one which he had seen on Junior’s earlier that evening. “I’m glad that Junior liked my present.”

“The audacity you have to bring a fucking Blaugrana teddy into my home... If he wouldn’t be so obviously attached to it I’d burn it.”

“If this,” Leo had tugged at the hoodie, “wouldn’t be so comfy, I’d allow Ney and Luis to burn it.” 

He had not resisted when Cristiano had laid his left arm over his shoulder, had pulled him close and had kissed the top of his head, “Pirralho.” Cristiano had let go of him when once they had found themselves standing in the vestibule to allow him to grab the present from the commode. 

“Happy birthday, Cristiano,” he had said with a grin, raising onto the tips of his toes to kiss him.

The wrapping paper had crackled when Cristiano had gotten his hands onto it, “Thank you, bebê.”

Leo had watched how the other man had unwrapped his presence, failing to swallow down the lump of nervousness in his throat. Sure, Cristiano had told him that he had not been interested in Leo buying him a watch or an expensive bottle of wine like his friends would, but he had gone quite a bit off-road with his choice. “You-You said that you wanted to get some Spanish children’s books for Junior and well, I passed by them in the store and remembered what you told me and I thought that-”

His babbling had been silenced when Cristiano had laid a finger against his lips, smiling down at him. “They are just what I’ve been looking for, bebê. Thank you so much.” Cristiano had pulled his fingers away to look through the stack of children’s book once more before he had set them down onto a nearby side table to pull Leo into an embrace. “I love you,” he had whispered, his arms tightening as Leo had gasped and had closed his arms around Cristiano’s waist in response. His face had been pressed into Cristiano’s chest, the taller man’s scent enclouding him in a way that had made him wish that he would have been able to stay forever. “Don’t ever doubt it, okay? Eu caí de cabeça para você, eu te amo.”

“I love you too.” For how long they had held onto each other before they had parted, Leo had not known. “I... I have to get my phone...”

“I’ll get it for you, bebê.” The Portuguese had jogged off into the direction of the living room and Leo had let out a shaky breath, slipping on his jacket over the Real Madrid hoodie and putting on his shoes. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

“Drive safe, okay? Text me when you get back to the hotel.”

He had nodded, “I will.” Cristiano had cupped his face and had kissed him, almost as if he had felt the need to underline what he had said and Leo had truly needed to force his legs to walk out. It may have been a bit ridiculous, but right then he had not wanted anything more than to wake up the next morning and sit down at a breakfast table with both Cristiano and Junior. When he had reversed the car off the driveway and had thrown one last look at the house, Cristiano had still stood on the swell of the the opened door, smiling and raising his hand. Leo’s heart had somersaulted all over again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that I'm having a bit too much fun with this story right now... probably because I know that I won't have that much time to write with the next semester at uni coming up ^^
> 
> Not beated, all mistakes are mine.

_**Valentine’s Day, 14. February 2015.**_

Gerard, Neymar and Leo had formed a Community of Suffering on that day, as their group chat had been called, though it might have only been Leo himself who had included himself truly into it because unbeknownst to his two close friends, they had not been the only ones whose boyfriends had been unable to leave Madrid for the occasion of Valentine’s Day. He had tried to tell himself that he had not been to disappointed that Cristiano had not been able to make it. While he had known that their jobs probably never would have allowed for it to happen, it would have been more than just nice if he would have been able to share at least a few mere hours with Cristiano.

In person, and not through FaceTime calls or texts. 

The Portuguese had tried to clear his schedule for the day and he had sounded honestly devastated when he had send Leo a voice message, stating that it would be impossible for him to fly to Barcelona. “I promise that I’ll make it up to you, bebê.” Cristiano’s voice had been whiny, almost like that of a petulant child, when he had send him the voice message, “Ugh, what I’d give to see you on Friday... Por favor não fique bravo comigo, Leo.” 

Leo had not blamed him, of course. It would have been unfair and cruel if he would have claimed that it had been Cristiano’s fault, but it would have been a lie if he would have said that he had not felt a painful stab in his chest at the prospect of spending Valentine’s Day in the solitude of his home in Barcelona. So when Neymar had suggested for Gerard and him to come over to Leo’s place for a sleepover, he had agreed within a second, hoping that it would hinder himself from breaking his mind over his boyfriend. It had been hard, especially since he had not been able to talk with his closest friends about the new relationship that he had found himself in. Cristiano and him had never directly discussed it and Leo had not wanted to reveal it, not even to Neymar and Gerard, if he would not be certain that Cristiano would be comfortable with anyone but the two of them knowing. Keeping their relationship a secret had, after all, not changed anything about their feelings for each other. Or so Leo had hoped.

His phone had vibrated just as he had pulled the tray of Shortbread cookies out of the oven to set it down on the countertop and he had shrugged off the oven cloths before he had fished for his phone where he had put it into the pocket of his apron before he had started baking.

 _Neymar:_ [LEEEOOO]

 _Neymar:_ [Geri & I will be at yours in like 10 minutes 😌☝🏽]

Smiling to himself, he had snapped a quick photo of the fresh cookies.

[Photo]

[Great! ☺️]

 _Gerard:_ [@Leo if you don’t get yourself a man/woman that’s gonna appreciate your baking I’ll talk Sergio into forming a love triangle with you]

 _Gerard:_ [Seriously]

 _Gerard:_ [The cake that you made for my birthday?? With the tangerines and the cream??? WAY better than sex and you know everything that Ser and I did... 🤤]

 _Gerard:_ [Don’t tell Ser tho]

 _Neymar:_ [AHH THEY LOOK AMAZING @Leo 😍]

Leo had snorted and had blindly reached for the discarded oven cloths with one hand to hang them back up on their hooks over the sink while he had typed his reply with the other. 

[Thank you 😚]

[But @Geri I’m sure that Ramos would kill me within a second]

 _Gerard:_ [I’ll never forget how he liked your cake but pretended that he needed to throw up when I told him that it was yours]

 _Gerard:_ [He can be an idiot]

 _Gerard:_ [Sometimes I wonder how Sergio fucking Ramos managed to win my heart tbh 🤪]

 _Neymar:_ [I mean... _I mean_... 😂]

 _Gerard:_ [WATCH IT @Ney]

 _Gerard:_ [I don’t think the driver will appreciate it if I smack you in the back of his car]

He had been about to answer with a fake-mad text about how he had not wanted to spend the evening watching over a pair of bickering children when a notification from Cristiano’s chat had popped up on his screen.

 _Cristiano:_ [Can I call you bebê? ❤️😘]

His heart had somersaulted, forcing colour into his face in the most ridiculous way, as he had left the group chat for Cristiano’s chat instead and he had wondered whether he would ever be able to stop blushing and stuttering when it had come to the older man.

[Sure! ☺️]

The call had followed before he could have set his phone aside. “Leo, bebê,” Cristiano had greeted him, his voice similar to the whining tone it had been underlined with in the voice message, “what are you doing?”

“I just finished baking. Ney and Gerard will be here soon.”

Leo had felt his smile widening at the grunt that the Portuguese had answered with. “That’s so unfair,” Cristiano had lamented, “ _I_ am supposed to see you tonight, not Neymar and Piqué.”

Le had perceived something in the background that could have been the sound of a duvet being pushed around. “Are you already in bed?”

“Yes, but sadly without you next to me or under me, bebê.”

The blush on his face had intensified when the older man’s baritone laugh had reached him through the phone and he had bitten his lip, lowering his gaze to his hand, “Cristiano...”

“What? I’m just saying the truth, bebê. I miss you a lot.”

He had absentmindedly moved the tip of his index finger along the edge of the countertop, “I miss you too, Cristiano. I really would’ve loved to be with you today.”

“Fuck, this is fucking bullshit. Eu odeio o fato de que eu não posso estar com você.”

“Yeah, you say it.”

Cristiano had sighed, a drawled-out and tired noise, “Did you get my present yet?”

Leo’s hand had frozen in its movement, “What present? Cris, you said that we wouldn’t send each other anything! Cris!”

“I said that I didn’t want _you_ to send me anything Leo, unless it would’ve been you on a plane to Madrid. I never said that _I_ didn’t want to get you something.”

“That’s unfair, you know.” _But so sweet_ , he had added in the silence of his mind.

Cristiano had laughed again, “Don’t be mad with me, bebê. You could give me another blowjob when we see each other again? That would be an... adequate compensation, I think.”

Huffing, Leo had rolled his eyes but had eventually laughed as well. “I love you, but-”

“Ha, that’s all I wanted to hear! Eu também te amo bebê. I’ve send your present with a courier. If it wasn’t already delivered it’ll be later tonight. So don’t go to bed too early, bebê, I want you to have it!”

“Says the one who’s in bed at...” he had thrown a quick look at the clock, “nine on a Friday night?”

“Mhm, training destroyed me today,” Cristiano had said with a tired groan, stretching out underneath his duvet. “I probably won’t feel my calves tomorrow.”

“That bad?”, Leo had asked and his voice had dropped to a lower tone without him having intended it to.

“Don’t worry about it, bebê, I’ll be just fine.” The Portuguese had huffed, “I’m probably getting old, that’s it.”

Leo had bitten his lip again during the few seconds of comfortable silence that had followed before he had answered to Cristiano, “Do you expect me to agree with you or-”

“Watch it, bebê!”

“Junior’s already asleep?”

“Graças a Deus ele está I read him one of the books that you bought for me and he fell asleep after a few minutes.” The older man had chuckled softly, “Do you have magic powers when it comes to children? Seriously. Junior always stops crying the second that I hand him that hideous Blaugrana teddy, it’s getting ridiculous.”

Despite Cristiano had not been able to see it, Leo had shrugged and had wedged his phone between his ear and shoulder to loose the knot of the apron from around his waist, “I like them and they like me, I don’t know why.”

“Because you’re gentle, soft-spoken, rarely ever get mad and are pretty much the sweetest person I know. I can see why they like you, Leo.”

“Oh...”

“Did you ever think about having children?”

Whatever it had been that had laced Cristiano’s voice, it had caused Leo’s heart to beat all the faster. “I-I did, but Antonella... she doesn’t really like children and so I... set that thought aside for then.”

“I understand that very well, bebê. That’s why I got Junior on my own instead. There’s nothing I wanted more than to have my own child, but Irina... she wasn’t interested in him at all. She never wanted to feed him or do anything with him. It was always me who got up during the nights. I don’t even know if she held him once, now that I’m thinking about it, it’s like she hated him for existing.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Yeah,” Cristiano had muttered, “it was very hard to watch.”

“You’re a good father,” Leo had said with an equally low voice, “don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Thank you, bebê. It means a lot that you think so.”

“I really do.”

“Did I tell you how good it felt to see you with Junior?”

“I... he’s a very cute kid, Cristiano.”

“My offer still stands, you know,” the Portuguese had said with a laugh. “You can always come and babysit him during the next finale if you want to.”

“Wow, how _generous_ of you.”

“Isn’t it, bebê?”

Leo’s head had snapped up when he had perceived the sound of a car driving up onto his driveway and he had barely stifled a sigh, “Ney and Gerard are here.”

The older man had huffed, once again like a petulant child, but his voice had been gentle when he had spoken. “That’s alright, bebê. Will you call me later?”

“But if you’re asleep-”

“I probably won’t be anyway. I’d just... like you to call me.”

Leo had let out a sound of agreement, “Okay, I will.”

“Eu te amo.”

“I love you too.”

“Have fun, bebê.”

Ending the call, Leo had stashed his phone in the back pocket out his trousers as he had left the kitchen en route for the entrance door and while his heart had troubles calming in its racing that the short talk with Cristiano had triggered, he had managed quite a wide and giddy smile at the sight of Neymar and Gerard walking up the gravel path that had lead to the entrance. Each had been carrying a duffle bag and arms full of paper bags with the advertising label of the nearest supermarket. “How long do you plan on staying here again?”

Neymar had shot him am overjoyed grin. “You do not have a single drop of alcohol in your home, Leo, and if you think that I’ll stay sober on Valentine’s day, you’re fucking wrong.”

He had snorted, had shaken his head and had stepped forward to greet the Brazilian, then the Spaniard with a hug, “Come in.” His friends had started kicking off their shoes before he had even closed the door behind them.

“God,” Gerard had moaned, rubbing his flat stomach, “it smells like heaven in here.”

The three Blaugranas had sauntered to the kitchen to stash the bottles of Rosé in the fridge, dump the dozen different kind of chips that Neymar had picked out onto the table and put the ice cream in the freezer before it could have melted completely. “We’ll have to run at least twenty extra laps tomorrow,” Leo had said with a snort when Gerard had snatched a handful of the still warm cookies from the tray and had slipped one of them into his mouth right away.

“So? It’ll be worth it,” the Spaniard had muttered from around a mouthful of the baked treat. “Compared to spending Valentine’s alone because your boyfriend’s stuck in the worst city of Spain running one hundred laps is fine.”

Neymar had sighed theatrically and reached for a cookie as well, patting Gerard’s arm, “I feel you bro, I feel you.”

 _Yeah, me too_ Leo had silently added, pressing his lips together as if he had been physically forced to restrain himself and in truth, he had been somewhat dying to tell them, to gush about Cristiano like Neymar had done it with James or how Gerard had done it with Sergio. They had lingered around in the kitchen for a while, chatting about their day, before they had moved to the living room, having long decided that an evening of watching Netflix together had been exactly what they all had needed.

“Ser nearly exploded on the phone when he told me that he would have to cancel his flight,” Gerard had stated, with a faked nonchalance, as he had plopped down on Leo’s couch and had torn a bag of chips open with a satisfying _pop_. “I mean... don’t get me wrong you two, I would’ve loved to spend the evening with him instead but I think it’s kinda funny how much they’re training for the match in March.”

“True, it seems as if they finally see us like we are,” Neymar had laughed, fishing a few chips out of the bag in Gerard’s lap, “Spain’s best, ha as if. Aqueles malditos Blancos!”

Leo had swallowed hard. He had not been used to feeling uncomfortable in the presence of his friends, his best friends at that, too. He had not felt uncomfortable _per se_ , he simply had not known what he possibly could have added to the conversation without giving himself and his relationship with Cristiano Ronaldo away and he had suddenly wished that he would have been in Cristiano’s bed instead, wrapped up in a pair of strong, tanned arms.

He had failed to stop himself from flinching when Neymar had nudged him gently, “Leo.”

“Hm?”

“You’re not seriously thinking about Antonella right now, are you?”

 _Oh, if he only would have known._ “No, I’m not,” he had laughed, managing an honest smile, “I told you that there are no hard feelings between us.”

His friends had eyed him. “You breaking up really was overdue,” Gerard had claimed. “You’ve only ever acted like a couple when cameras were near. You know that we’ve known for a while.”

“The break-up was mutual, she moved out before I even returned from Zurich and as far as I know, she’s dating a photographer. We’re better off as friends anyway, it’s more relaxed now.”

“And there’s no one that you’re seeing?”

“Oh shut up, Ney. You know that you and Geri would be the first to know if I’d be.” It had been a lie, one that had rested heavily on Leo’s shoulders, and he had suppressed a sigh, “How’s James? And Geri, how’s Sergio?”

He had listened to his friends gush about their boyfriends rather halfheartedly only, had smiled and had nodded whenever it had been expected of him to do so every now and then. Leo had tried to not pay attention to the way that his heart had gotten heavier the longer Gerard and Neymar had went on. Even if their relationship would last, he had feared that it would probably never be possible for him and Cristiano to live it out like his friends had done it. The media had titled them enemies, their teams had hated each other and if they could have done it, their representative groups of friends would have killed each other.

Leo had sighed, had hoped that he had done it barely audibly, and had tried to listen to Gerard, who had been re-telling just how sweet Sergio Ramos could be. He would have sworn that there had been a hint of tears glistering in his friend’s eyes as Gerard had told them of the plan that he had worked out for Sergio and him. It had been the hint Leo had decided to take. “The wine’s probably cool enough by now,” he had interrupted Gerard, slapping his thighs for good measure as he had stoop up from the couch. The two other man had nodded before they had changed the topic of their conversation from the boyfriends to what movie they ought to watch first as Leo had exited the living room. There had not been tears in his eyes when he had found himself standing in his kitchen, but his throat had felt undeniably constricted.

It had been ridiculous, really. He had seen Cristiano nine days ago, though it had, in that moment, felt as if it had been nine weeks instead. It had seemed as if all the pent-up emotions had broken loose then that Leo had no longer needed to hide them from himself and the Portuguese. Especially with the alcohol in his system. Leo had continued to stand in front of the fridge for a few long moments, his gaze glued onto the closed door. He would have liked to send a text to Cristiano but had, out of fear that he might annoy the other, decided against it and had merely opened the fridge’s door a bit more zestfully than he had intended to. 

While he had usually never been the kind of person that would drink with the main goal of getting drunk, Leo, just as Neymar and Gerard, had desperately needed it that night. With a bottle of wine under each arm and balancing three glasses, he had made his way back to where his friends had been awaiting his return. “Yes!”, Neymar had exclaimed, thrusting his fist into the air as if they had just scored a last-second goal against the Blancos and had happily bounced up and down on the couch as Leo had unscrewed the first of the bottles and had poured a generous amount into each of the three glasses.

If it would have been another time, he would have winced at the fact that they would disgrace such an expensive choice of wine by drinking it out of Latte Macchiato glasses though right then, he had merely grinned at his friends as the three of them had clinked their glasses together. “Let’s not talk about _them_ for the rest of the evening,” Gerard had chirped and while he had strongly doubted that they would manage to do just that, Leo had nodded in unison with Neymar.

“So, what movie are we going to watch?”

“Well, _I_ want to watch Les Misérables but Geri here wants to watch Ocean’s Twelve.”

After a few minutes of non-serious bickering, they had eventually decided to watch Les Misérables before they would choose something more light-hearted. Leo should have known that it had been a mistake. The two bottles of wine had been emptied just as Fantine had passed away and all three of the Blaugranas had been close to tears, fuelled by a wine-induced heartache. Leo had watched the movie countless of times, though had still cried during every single one of it. Damn Neymar for having introduced him to it in the first place. “I-I need more wine,” Leo had hiccuped, pulling the fleece blanket tighter around himself.

Gerard had patted the top of his head as if he had been consoling a child, “I’ll go and get it for you.”

“Tha-ank you.”

Neymar had sniffled and had shuffled closer to cuddle up to him, wrapping his arms around him. Crying over Les Misérables together had been something that the two of them had done on multiple occasion. Why? Leo would not have been able to answer to that question. The Catalan had taken longer than expected to return - Leo had been certain that he had heard him talking on the phone, bringing another two bottles of wine as well as a container of ice cream for them to share. “I hate you two,” Gerard had stated with an unusually flat voice, “why did you want to watch that? Man that’s about the saddest shit I’ve watched in years.”

The Brazilian had muttered something incoherently when he had reached for the class that Gerard had refilled for him. “Sometimes you just need a good cry,” Leo had said, letting out a teary laugh and wiping at his tear-stewn face, “that’s all.”

“Well, I could have cried without that.” They had refilled their glasses and had went back to watching the movie, Neymar and Leo whispering about the plot so that they would not accidentally spoil Gerard. “Fuck.” Gerard’s voice had been barely above a whisper as well when he had, quite suddenly, spoken again and had buried his face in his hands. When his shoulders had begun to shake, Leo had known that his reaction had not been due to the movie.

Blindly reaching for the remote to pause it, he had turned towards Gerard and had laid an arm around his shoulder, “Geri, hey. What’s wrong?” Neymar and him had shared a worried look when their friend had not reacted but had merely continued to keep his face in hiding. “Geri...”

“Sergio called me,” Gerard’s slurred reply had come after a few moments of choked sobbing and Leo had wondered how much of the wine the taller man had actually managed to drink. “He just called me and I... fuck, I just didn’t want to be rude and so I said that I’m watching a movie with you but-but he just said that he won’t call me anymore then if I-I’m _so much better off without him_.”

“Foda-se esse babaca, eu o mataria se pudesse!”

Leo had swallowed, still feeling rather emotional due to the movie and his own longing after the man he had loved, “I’m sure that he didn’t mean it like that...”

The Spaniard had wiped at his face with two rough gestures, letting out a disdainful grunt as he had done so, “The truth is that I sometimes wonder why I-I even bother at all. He’s Sergio _fucking_ Ramos, what should-should I expect from someone like him?”

Leo had felt a twinge in his chest at that. Gerard and Sergio had went back years, in fact, Leo could not have said whether there had ever been a time when Gerard and Sergio _had not_ danced around each other. “You know what? You probably already had enough, Geri.”

“Wine? Ugh, yes. Ice cream and chips? Fuck no!”

Neymar had moved to snatch the container of ice cream from the coffee table and had passed it, together with one of the spoons, to the Catalan, “You’re right, he’s Sergio _fucking_ Ramos. So eat your ice cream and stop thinking about that bastard, you can do so much better than him anyway.”

Gerard had hummed rather reluctantly before he had dug in, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Ney, do you think that we should pick something else to watch -”

“No! No, no hagas eso!”, the tallest of the three had hurried to interrupt with a sniffle, “I like it - the movie, I mean.”

“Are you sure? We won’t be mad if you want to watch a different one.”

“I’m sure I-I really didn’t want to ruin the evening. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Neymad had retorted with a click of his tongue and a light hit against Gerard’s upper arm.

“We’re friends, Geri,” Leo had added, smiling and gently nudging his friend’s side as he had reached for the remote again, “you couldn’t possibly ruin the evening with that.”

“Thanks you two,” Gerard had sniffled, putting another spoonful of chocolate mint ice cream into his mouth. He had shot his friends an apologetic smile and none of them had brought the topic of Serio Ramos up as they had followed the development of the movie’s plot. When they had been close to tears, it had been due to the fact that Éponie had been dying in Marius’ arms rather than their love-life.

They had been interrupted in their teary discussion about whether Marius had known of his friend’s love for him by the ringing of the doorbell, which had resounded loudly through the otherwise empty house. “At that time? Maybe it’s a crazed-out fan,” Neymar had said, dropping his voice, “xyou shouldn’t answer.”

Leo’s heart had somersaulted, though not from fear about who it might have been who had stood on the other side of the door. “I have a working security system, you know,” he had snorted, feeling the wine clearly in his head as he had stood, had shrugged off the fleece blanket he had been wrapped into and had hurried to the door.

“I have got a packet for you, Señor Messi,” the man had stated with a professional smile. Leo should have known that Cristiano never would have chosen anything less than a high-class and, most importantly so, utmost discreet courier service, though he had still been a bit stunned at the fact that the man had worn a perfectly tailored black suit.

“Oh, thank you.”

The courier had passed the parcel to him before he had bowed his head in a quick gesture, “Señor,” and had strode back to the car that he had parked on the sidewalk in front of Leo’s home.

His heart had been positively racing when he had closed the door, unconsciously holding the parcel to his chest and he had made his way back to his living room before he could have even thought about whether it would be all that wise to unwrap it with his friends there to witness it.

“Ooohhh, what you got there?”, Neymar had chirped with a sing-sang voice, stretching his neck to watch Leo as he had moved back to the couch.

“I don’t know,” Leo had answered with a voice more shaky than he would have liked it to have been, “but it was a courier, no lunatic murderer.”

The Brazilian had laughed out loudly. Leo had sat back down beside him, carefully holding the parcel in his lap. It had been packed-up into a dark red paper, which in itself had seemed ridiculously expensive but just as he had collected enough courage to start unwrapping Cristiano’s present, Gerard’s phone had vibrated on the coffee table. A picture of Sergio, lying on a deck chair and grinning into the camera while making a peace sign, had shown on the screen. Leo and Neymar had eyed it in expectancy while Gerard had kept his gaze forcefully fixed on the TV instead.

“Geri.” No answer had followed. “You should talk to him,” Leo had tried again after the call had not stopped after nearly half a minute of ringing, but his friend had done little more than press his lips together, not averting his eyes away from the TV. The call had ended eventually, but a second one had followed as soon as the first had ended and Leo had wordlessly collected the phone off the table and had held it out for Gerard, who had, just as wordlessly, taken it and had swiped his thumb over the screen to reluctantly accept the call.

Sergio Ramos’ voice had blurred from the speaker and Leo’s heart had felt heavy at the look of sheer _heartache_ that had flashed over Gerard’s face. “Gerard, baby, _fuck_ ,” the Spaniard had begun with a quavering voice, bringing out his words so fast that he had nearly stumbled over them. Leo had only ever heard his voice laced with its trademark fury on the pitch, but even he had made out the unmasked remorse and uncertainty that Ramos had spoken with. “Lo siento bebé, _fuck_ , lo siento mucho. Perdóname, lo siento mucho. Te quiero mucho. No lo dije en serio, _fuck_ , no lo dije en absoluto.” There had been tears in Gerard’s eyes by the time that Sergio had let out a raspy breath, so as if he had been about to give into tears himself. It had not been something that Leo had ever expected to witness. “Baby?”

“I’ve done it for too long.” Leo and Neymar had exchanged a look when Sergio’s breath had hitched audibly. “I love you, but I’ve been a bouncing ball for your goddamn mood swings for far too long. Si no empiezas a apreciarme, Sergio, te dejaré. Para bien esta vez.”

 _I shouldn’t be here_ , had flashed through Leo’s mind when Sergio had broken into tears on the other end of the line. “Do-on’t say that,” Ramos had whispered, his speech interrupted by a harsh sob, “I’m so sorry baby, I promise that I’ll try to better myself but _please_ , don’t say that. I love you so fucking much y no sé qué haría sin ti, así que por favor no digas eso.” The other man had fully dissolved into sobs, “Baby, me muero por verte y odio estar atrapado aquí en Madrid mientras estás...”

“While I’m _what?_ ” There had been a certain edge to Gerard’s voice, but instead of anger, it had sounded closer to tiredness than anything else.

“James send me the photo...”

“What photo? ¡Deja de hablar en acertijos!”

“You cosying up to another man.” Neymar had winced at the vicious tone that Sergio had managed despite his tears. Leo had known that the photo of him and Gerard cuddling which Neymar had not only send to the Barça group chat, but to his boyfriend as well, had been meant as a joke only.

Gerard had wiped at his face with two angry gestures, “Are you serious? It was Leo, Ser. _Leo_. A veces me pregunto por qué me molesto con usted en todo. Ni siquiera confías en mí, sin mencionar la forma en que me tratas cuando no nos vemos en persona. ¿Tienes idea de cuánto me duele, Sergio? Estoy empezando a pensar que ni siquiera te importa. So if that’s all that you have to say, I’ll hang up and you can return to being best bros with Rodríguez or Ronaldo or whoever you’re with right now and leave me the hell alone.”

For a few seconds, neither of the two men had said anything and Leo’s finger had absentmindedly begun to open the wrapping paper of the present in his lap. “Geri, baby,” Sergio had eventually whispered, “I love you so much that the fact that I couldn’t be with you today is tearing me apart and I-I’m sorry that I snapped at you like it did. No lo dije en serio, y sabes cuánto me cuesta controlar mi temperamento.”

To Leo’s relief, a smile had spread out on his friend’s face at Sergio’s whispered confession, “I know. Everyone knows so, Ser.”

“Will you forgive me one last time, baby?”

“Te perdonaría cien veces, Sergio. You’re an idiot sometimes but I love you too much to not forgive you, just...”

“I know and I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I talked to you like that, baby. You’re right, you don’t deserve it. Anyone but you does. I just miss you and I hoped that I’d get to-” Gerard had turned off the speaker and held his phone to his ear instead which, given the blush that had slowly crept over the bridge of his nose, had probably been a wise choice.

Neymar had been busy with his phone as well, and so Leo had returned his attention back towards the gift that Cristiano had send him. The wrapping paper had soon been opened, balled-up and discarded onto the coffee table. He had frozen when his eyes had fallen onto the golden lettering that had adorned the top of the elegant black box and he had felt his heart in his throat as he had lifted the top of the box with gentle fingers as if it would have broken if he would have grabbed it too harshly. Leo had nearly stopped breathing at the sight of the watch that had been resting on a black satin pillow. He had failed to remember when exactly he had casually mentioned his interest in the Cellini Moonphase Rolex to Cristiano, but he had known that when he had mentioned it, he definitely had not wanted to give the Portuguese a hint for a possible gift.

The reason why he had hesitated to buy it himself had been simple: for someone who had close to nothing as a child spending twenty-five thousand Euro on a watch had not been something that he could have done on a whim. And Cristiano had bought it for him. For Valentine’s Day, when Leo had thought that they had agreed on not gifting each other anything other than sweet messages. His heart had soared when he had taken the watch out of the box, feeling the smooth leather and cool steal. It had even _felt_ expensive. That Neymar had been watching him rather curiously from the other end of the couch, he had not noticed.

His fingers had come in touch with an engraving on the case back and he had turned the watch over to inspect it. _Lembre-se de que eu te amo sempre que você olha para isso. Seu, Cristiano._

Leo had felt tears burning in the corners of his eyes when he had run his thumb over the engraved letters over and over again as if he had not that they had been there. When Neymar had moved out of the sudden to sit beside him, he had jerked violently enough for him to bang his knee on the low table, “Ow!”

“Uhlala, who send you that? And on Valentine’s day,” the Brazilian had chirped, wriggling an eyebrow. Gerard, who had since ended the phone call, had turned his then tear-free eyes towards him as well. “I think that you’re not telling us the truth, Leo.”

“I-”

“You’re seeing someone. And you didn’t tell me?” Neymar had accentuated his words by putting a hand to his chest in a gesure of consternation, “ _Me?_ ”

“I-” Putting the watch back into its box, Leo had closed the lid and had grabbed his phone, muttering “I’ll be back” without knowing whether his friends had heard him. Once outside the living room, he had turned towards the flight of stairs and had climbed them two steps at a time, his fingers trembling embarassingly as he had unlocked his phone and had selected Cristiano’s contact.

He had only realised that he had facetimed rather than called him when Cristiano’s face had popped up on the screen. Leo had feared for his heart to give out for good. Cristiano had been _breathtaking_. While tiredness had stood clearly on his face, it had been overpowered by way that Cristiano’s curls hand bounced as the Portuguese had combed his fingers through them and the smile that he had offered to Leo. Not to mention the fact that his bare chest had been visible from where the duvet had rested around his waist. “Did you like my present, bebê?” He had closed the door of his bedroom behind him, making the mistake to sniffle. “Leo?” Cristiano had shuffled into a more upright position, “Are you crying?”

“No, well yes but we’re watching a sad movie,” Leo had hurried to answer, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. “That’s why I’m crying. I’m fine.”

“Bebê, if there’s anything...”

“I’m alright, I promise.” 

Worrying his lower lip between his teeth, he had sat down on the edge of the bed. Cristiano had eyes him in silence for a few moments before the Portuguese had grinned, “So, do you like my present?”

Oh, how much he had wished that he would have been able to hug him instead. “I do, but... Cristiano, it wasn’t necessary.”

The older man had chuckled, the same baritone sound that had always caused Leo to blush. It had been no different that time. “Yes it was. Don’t argue with me about it, bebê. What did Neymar and Piqué say?”

Leo had nearly gone rigid. “I didn’t show it to them,” he had muttered, dropping his head to shield his eyes with his free hand. The mixture of wine, gratefulness about the present and the sheer love he had harboured for Cristiano had been incredibly overwhelming in that moment.

“Leo...”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” he had said without raising his voice from its low level, “I’m just a bit drunk on wine and missing you right now.”

Cristiano had groaned and had flipped back down onto his pillow, “Don’t get me started on how much _I’m_ missing _you_ right now, bebê. Você me chupando seria perfeito agora.”

“There’s something that we have to... talk about.”

The hand that Cristiano had combed through his curls in an ever-repeating motion had frozen, “You’re not about to tell me that we’re better off as friends after all, are you?”

“What? No, of course not!”

The Portuguese had huffed a laugh that had been undeniably relieved, “Just making sure. What is it, bebê?”

“I wanted to ask you whether you would be okay with me telling them about us,” had blurted out of Leo before he could have broken his mind over it. Cristiano had looked at him, once more in silence so that he had been able to make out the rapid Portuguese from whatever channel Cristiano had watched when he had called him, and he had cringed inwardly, jumping onto an apology next. “I didn’t-”

“Did I let you think that I want to keep you and our relationship in hiding, Leo?” He had been a bit taken aback by the hint of remorse in the older man’s voice, “I’m sorry if I did, because it’s the last thing that I...”

“You didn’t, Cristiano, but I would understand if you’d want to.” 

Lacking the courage to look at the screen of his phone, Leo had kept his gaze fixed on his hand instead. It certainly would have been so much easier if Cristiano would have been here in person instead. “Bebê... everyone knowing that you’re mine is somewhat of a dream,” the Portuguese had murmured, using the same tone that Leo had heard him talking to Junior before, and he had felt his cheeks heating up. “Especially Neymar.”

Cristiano had muttered the last part low enough that Leo had almost missed it. The corners of his mouth had twitched into a smile, “Come on, you know that he’s with James.”

“I know, and he might be in a relationship but he’s still all-so touchy and jumping all over you on the pitch. Eu não quero mais ninguém tocando o que é meu.”

“I’ll tell them,” Leo had simply said, his smile widening when Cristiano had downright beamed at him.

“I love you. I’ll come up with a way to tell Sergio and the others, alright?” 

His boyfriend had looked so proud that Leo had needed to laugh, “Ney and Gerard will keep quiet if I ask them to.”

“Will they?”

“Mhm, so you can think about how you’re going to tell Ramos in a way that doesn’t result in him killing you.”

It had been Cristiano’s turn to laugh as Leo had stood up from the bed and had run a hand over his face, “I’ll take care of him, don’t worry. He’s actually a big softie.”

“Around Gerard or you, yes. In regards to me? I doubt it.”

“He’d sign his own death sentence if he’d ever touch you, Leo. I’d kill him on the spot.”

“That’s... good to know? I’ll visit you in prison.”

They had shared a laugh before Cristiano had groaned, “Call me when you’re wake up tomorrow, okay? Junior’s probably going to wake up at five again.”

“And _that’s_ why you think twice before you decide to have kids,” he had chirped in a repetition of what he had told him during Cristiano’s birthday dinner, his blush increasing at the reply it had earned him.

“I would _never_ hit my son but I’ll consider spanking _you_ if you keep up with the cheek. Don’t test me.”

“Cristiano!”

Leo had been certain that his entire face had burned with a bright shade of red, especially when Cristiano had grinned at him, clearly enjoying his reaction, “Yes, bebê?”

“Maybe I just won’t call you tomorrow.” 

It had been a lie, of course, but the look on the other man’s face had been priceless and he had grinned when Cristiano’s mouth had turned into a pout, “I take it back, bebê. Call me. _Please,_ eu quero ouvir a sua voz.”

“You know that I will.”

The Portuguese had rolled his eyes with a huff, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Cristiano,” Leo’s grin had shifted into a kind smile to mirror the one that had been directed at him through the screen, “good night.”

“Thank you, bebê. Espero que você tenha uma boa noite também.” Cristiano had blown him a kiss before he had ended the call and Leo had tried to force the colour out of his face as he had hurried back down to the ground floor, where Neymar and Gerard had been waiting for him.

Les Misérables had still been running when Leo had reached the living room, though given the way that his friends had held their heads together to speak with hushed voices, he had doubted that they had been following the heartbreaking singing of Eddie Redmayne at all. He had felt a twinge of guilt at the look that he had received from Neymar when he had, after having lingered on the swell of the door for a few seconds, walked over to the couch, clutching his phone in his hand as if it could have given him courage, “I-I need to tell you something.”

Neymar and Gerard had looked at him and while there had not been any real hurt or distrust in his friends’ eyes, the Brazilian had tried to talk with a hint of sadness in his voice. “Oh yes you have,” Neymar had sniffled for good measure as if Leo’s decision to hide his newly-found relationship had truly broken his heart. “I can’t believe that you did this to _me_.”

Unlike Neymar, Gerard had sounded a bit more collected. “Leo, if you think that you can’t trust me, I...”

“It’s not that I don’t trust the both of you,” Leo had hurried to assure the Spaniard, keeping his eyes closed for a second and clenching his hands around his phone a bit harder in an attempt to calm his nervousness. “I had to make sure that... he’d be okay with me telling you.”

“Ha! I _knew_ that you’re really seeing someone,” Neymar had exclaimed as he had thrusted his fist into the air, though settling short after. He had offered Leo an honestly kind smile and had scooted closer to wrap his arms around the shorter man for a quick hug. “I’m happy for you, Leo. You deserve to have someone by your side.”

Gerard had chuckled and had patted Neymar’s back. “That’s very true, but we’re also dying to know who it is.”

Leo had felt his cheeks heating up when both of his friends had chuckled in unison. “Come on, tell us everything. Do we know him?”

“Yeah, do we?”

“It has to be someone rich because that damn watch costs at least twenty thousand. Come _ooon_ Leãozinho, tell us who he is,” Neymar had whined, wriggling a teasing eyebrow.

The use of his nickname had made him smile despite his immense nervousness. Just _get it out_ , Leo had told himself in the silence of his mind as he had drawn in a deep breath to steady himself. _It’ll be okay_. “Cristiano.”

While Neymar had pulled his brows together and had let out a sound of confusion, since he clearly had not connected the dots between _Cristiano_ and _Ronaldo_ , Gerard’s eyes had widened almost comically. The Catalan had understood. 

“Cristiano? Who’s Cristiano?” Leo had swallowed, darting his gaze back and forth between Neymar and Gerard. “Don’t torture me like that.”

“Ronaldo.”

Neymar had snorted and had rolled his eyes, “Ha ha, very funny. Now tell me before I’ll snatch your phone and look for that Cristiano guy myself.”

“Ney... it’s him. It’s Cristiano.” Leo had kept his gaze locked with Neymar when his friend’s head had snapped around, nodding once, “It’s him.”

“Tem que ser uma piada de merda! Are you serious, Leo? Are you _fucking_ serious? Ronaldo as in _Cristiano Ronaldo?_ ” He had failed not to wince at the volume that Neymar’s voice had grown to be and while the Brazilian had sounded overwhelmed rather than angry, Gerard had put a hand onto Neymar’s shoulder as if they had been on the pitch and as if he had needed to calm him. Neymar had taken the hint and had lowered his voice, though the look of disbelief had not disappeared from his face. “Him? Leo, tell me that you’re joking right now.” Leo had shaken his head and had smiled, rather to himself, at the soaring feeling in his chest. _Cristiano and him_. “How did... How did that even happen? You _hate_ each other!”

“I love him,” he had whispered, “and he loves me, too.”

“What I can’t believe is that Sergio didn’t tell me _anything_.”

“Like I said, we didn’t know when to... let anyone know. And you’ll be the only ones for now.”

The two other men had nodded. Gerard had patted Neymar’s shoulder, “You okay?”

“For how long have you and... oh Deus, I can’t even say his name in that context!”

“A month.”

Leo had practically been able to see how the gearwheels of Neymar’s mind had worked and his smile had widened, incredibly reliefed that his best friend had not reacted as badly as he had feared he could. “Oh não! Zurich? How did _that_ happen?”

 _He took me to the bathroom and kissed me so I dropped to my knees and gave him a blowjob_ had rested on the tip of Leo’s tongue, and his face had heated up at the memory of that evening. “After you and James left we... well, we talked and then he... kissed me.”

“And you’re together now? Like a couple?”

He had needed to laugh at Neymar’s disbelieving question, “Yeah, we are.”

Gerard had smiled just as honest as Neymar had done it and while the Brazilian had seemed as if he had since begun to understand what Leo had told him, he had still absentmindedly shaken his head in utmost disbelief, “ _You_ and _Ronaldo_...”

“Leo?”

“Yes?”

“I’m happy for you, I really am.”

With his cheeks tinted pink, he had shown a relieved smile to the Catalan, “Thank you, Geri.”

“It’s not that I’m not happy for you,” Neymar had spluttered, his own face a bit blushed, “I mean you’re my best friend and I love you but I just can’t see you with Ronaldo, you know? My mind’s refusing to accept that you’ll be his next piece of arm candy - not that I want to play your relationship down or imply that Ronaldo’s using you because that idiota is loyal after all but it’s _Ronaldo_ and I just can’t see how - you’re so _sweet_ and Ronaldo is so...”

“It’s okay,” Leo had said, reaching out to lay his hand onto Neymar’s knee and not losing his smile as his friend had drawn in a much-needed breath. “I understand that it’s a bit much, you can imagine how overwhelming it’s been for me.”

“You two were talking a lot about each other, though.” Gerard had chuckled, “And now that I think about it, he seemed very happy when he joined Ser and me that evening,” and had ruffled through Leo’s hair. “I’ll kill him if he breaks your heart, Leo.”

“Thanks, Geri.”

Neymar had seemed to have caught himself again, “Your trip to Madrid...”

“He invited me to his birthday,” Leo had muttered, still a bit ashamed of his lies.

“To his birthday?”

“I would’ve told you if...” He had trailed off when Gerard had reached the nearby bottle of wine and had swiftly refilled their glasses anew.

“We said that we had enough but I need one,” the Catalan had snorted, passing out the respective glasses. “What did you do?”

“We had dinner and-”

“The Instagram story,” Neymar had gasped, “it was so obvious, I should’ve known!”

“Only dinner?” Gerard had wriggled his eyebrows, making Leo laugh.

“No, we ate dinner and then, quite frankly, had sex. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Gerard had thrown his head back in laughter while Neymar had groaned beside him and had taken a large gulp from his wine, grimacing as he had swallowed it. “Can you imagine how awkward the next El Clásico’s going to be? I mean you,” the Brazilian had looked at Gerard, “and Sergio and you,” before he had looked at Leo, “and Ronaldo have to pretend that you’re not just waiting to jump into bed together.”

All three of them had snickered and for a few minutes, their conversation had circled around the upcoming matches. They had been interrupted when Leo’s phone had vibrated quite audibly on the coffee table.

He had moved to take it, but Neymar had beaten him to it and the grin on his friend’s face had widened impossibly further. “Bebê,” Neymar had read aloud, “are you sure that you can’t visit me before the Clásico again? Crying emoji, heart emoji.” Gerard and Neymar had cooed and Leo had pressed his lips together as he had snatched his phone out of Neymar’s hand. “I didn’t know that Ronaldo could be so sweet.”

Leo had looked up from where he had typed a hurried reply to Cristiano, which had been instantly read. [I wish I could 😢]

“Should I tell him?” he had asked with an overly sweet tone, basking in the way that Neymar’s eyes had widened almost comically.

“Don’t you dare!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh somehow I'm not that happy with how this chapter turned out (there's not that much plot but oh well, at least it's proceeding, right? xD). 
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**El Clásico, 22. March 2015.** _

No matter how many times he would win, Leo’s body would probably always buzz from the adrenalin that would shoot through him with the final blow of the referee’s whistle and the wave of heartfelt emotions which would be heard from their fans but that time, in that seconds on the grounds of their home in Camp Nou, it had been more intense than it had been during many other occasions. 

They had won 2-1 against Madrid, had beaten their archenemy in their own territory and while Leo had not managed to score a goal himself, he had been just as ecstatic as Jérémy and Luis, who had brought them the liberating goals, as they had broken out into their much-deserved celebration. Neymar had been jumping onto him and he had jumped onto Neymar in return while his friends and teammates had collected into a huge pile around them to hug each other, their laughter no less deafening that the applause that had erode from the grandstands. Leo would only much later on realise how awkward the game had been after all.

When they had stood in the tunnel, mentally preparing themselves for the at leaste fourty-five minutes of highest concentration that had laid in front of them, he had felt Cristiano’s eyes on him. He had not been sure whether he merely imagined, and it had only been after a minute or so that he had understood that Cristiano had truly been staring at him. The Portuguese had done it as inconspicuously as it had only been possible, of course, as there had been more cameras than he could have counted and the media surely would have given him hell if _the great_ Cristiano Ronaldo would have been caught staring Lionel Messi down, but Leo had felt Cristiano’s gaze lingering on his back until they had been given the good to leave the tunnel. If it would have been possible, he would have turned around and jumped right into Cristiano’s arms.

They had not seen each other in person for a month, a timespan which, considering the relatively short time that they had been together, had felt immensely long. Texting and calling each other had helped with the light heartache, of course, but Leo had yearned after the moment that he would be able to touch Cristiano again, and the moment that he would feel Cristiano’s fingers touching him again. “Vi-isca el Ba-arça,” their fans had chanted in unison, causing goosebumps to appear all over Leo’s back as a pair of arms, Gerard’s impossibly long ones, had closed around him. Notwithstanding the countless of times he had heard it, he would never grow tired of the magical atmosphere after such a win. “Vi-isca el Ba-arça!”

“We won,” Gerard had gasped into his ear, tightening his arms around him, “and have you seen how they looked at us? Fuck, Leo, how he looked at _you_.”

It would have been a lie if he would have said that he had not noticed the looks that Cristiano had thrown him on the pitch. They had never lingered on him for longer than maybe a second, but they had been undeniable and the further the further the game had proceeded, the more intense their competition had grown to be, the more burning the looks out of Cristiano’s eyes had seemed to have become. It had been maddening, really, because it had not been as if Cristiano Ronaldo had never looked at him on the pitch before. There bad been many looks during the years that they had been acquainted to each, but those hostile glares and unkind snares had never bothered Leo as much as the much kinder ones he had received. Cristiano’s looks had been shamefully unreadable and had said it all at the same time, and Leo simply had not been used to be lusted after. Not on the pitch and especially not by someone as passionately as Cristiano.

When they had talked to each other on the phone prior to the game, the two of them had agreed on meeting in the Barça changing room after Leo had offered to stay behind until everyone else would have left. He had practically heard the grin on Cristiano’s face at his suggestion, “That would be prefect, bebê. I can’t wait to see you.”

After a few more minutes of celebrating out on the pit, the Blaugranas had slowly moved into the direction of the tunnel, and it had only been after he had untangled himself from Gerard’s arms that Leo had noticed the presence of a few Madrid players which had still been out and about, all looking grim and some of them kicking at the grass as if it had personally offended them. He had felt his cheeks gaining heat when his eyes had landed on Cristiano and Sergio, who had stood a bit apart from the others and had, with utmost grim looks on their faces, been engaged in an apparent discussion - though everyone who had known about their relationship statuses could have seen through the played act. That they had been watching their respective lovers, and not all that inconspicuously, had been undeniable.

Leo had quickly turned his head again, glad that the colour in his cheeks could have been blamed on the strain of having run for three-quarters of an hours, when an arm had laid itself around his shoulders. “He’s literally staring at you,” Neymar had whispered into his ear and he had not struggled when the Brazilian had begun to walk him to the tunnel. He had, however, let out a strangled gasp at the kiss that had been planted onto his cheeks.

It had lasted for a split of a second too long and he had known just why his friend had kissed him. Out of the corner of his eye, he had made out the pair of dressed-in-white players and even from the distance the daggers which Cristiano had send into their direction had been palpable. “Don’t tease him,” he had muttered, nudging his elbow into Neymar’s side without any real strength behind it.

“I’m not,” Neymar had said back with an equally low voice as he had kept his mouth close to Leo’s ear. “Se aquele idiota partir seu coração, eu o destruí-lo, Leo.”

“What is it with you Portuguese-speaking people speaking it around those who don’t even understand it? Seriously.”

The Brazilian had shrugged and let out a chuckle, “So we can say things we’re too shy to _really_ say, maybe? I don’t know. James likes it when I talk dirty to him in Portuguese, though. He gets all whiny and-”

He had let out an indignant sound and had made a halfhearted attempt to push his friend away as they had entered the changing room, “God, you and Geri and your eagerness to let everyone know just how great your sex lives are!”

Laughing, Neymar had plopped down on the bench and had thrown his towel at him, “We’re not ashamed.”

Leo had rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner and had thrown the balled-up towel right back at Neymar. “I’m not either, you know,” he had answered, though with a lowered voice as their teammates had been in the process of pouring into the room, chatting and laughing. “It’s just...”

“I know, Leo.” Sitting down beside Neymar, he had run his hands through his sweaty hair. He had not begun to undress himself while his friends and teammates had nearly stumbled over their own feet in an attempt to get out of their clothes and into the showers as quickly as possible. A party in one of Barcelona’s high-end nightclubs had already been planned, something that would have been uncomfortably awkward if the game would have turned out as a loss for then in the end, but it had only played into Leo’s cards. He had already decided that he would not join them before they had even booked the club. Neymar, who had since undressed himself, had eyed him as he had not moved from his seated position, “You’re not coming?”

“Later, I,” Leo had swallowed, feeling another swell of heat rising into his face, “I’ll shower later.”

“Later, huh?” The Brazilian had grinned and while he had not voiced out what Leo had feared had been resting on the tip of his tongue, Neymar’s words had still managed to increase his blush, “I thought that the showers were always reserved by Geri and Ser-”

“Oh shut up!”

“Love you too,” Neymar had chirped with a sing-sang voice before he, too, had hurried off to the showers and Leo had sighed, opening the cap of his water bottle and taking a deep drag out of it.

If he had been nervous? A bit. He had seen him for more than a month and he already had a hard time helping his nervousness whenever he had been around Cristiano anyway, and he had wondered, briefly, how long it would take him until he would not embarrass himself in front of the Portuguese by being his stuttering and always blushing self. Even if Cristiano had said that he had found it endearing. Dating Cristiano had simply been so much different than it had been with Antonella. Continuing to absentmindedly sip at his water, he had sat on the bench while his teammates had moved in and out of the showers, had dressed and had eventually left the changing room. He had already send a message to their group chat the day prior, stating that he would not be able to make it that night and so no comment had been made about the way that he, in their eyes, had dawdled about.

“I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?”, Marc-André had said, dropping a hand onto his shoulder to squeeze it lightly. The German goalkeeper had been one of the last ones to leave.

“Of course. Have fun tonight, Marc.”

The tall blond had smiled down at him, “You too, Leo.”

“Well well, who are _you_ waiting for.” It had been a rhetorical question, of course. Gerard had plopped down beside him with a drawled-out sigh, already showered and dressed into a légère attire, fumbling with his phone. Leo had known that Gerard had only been waiting for the text from a certain Blanco.

“Could ask you the same.”

“For our dream partners I guess?” They had shared a laugh and Leo had allowed himself to lean into the touch when Gerard had wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll talk later. I’ll text you or something, okay?”

“There’s too much press.”

“Hm?”

“For Sergio to fuck you in his car again.”

“Oh Leo, you have so much to learn. Everything’s possible with tinted windows and a sex drive as high as-” Gerard had been interrupted when his phone had whistled, and Leo’s smile had widened at the way that his friend’s had looked at the screen.

 _If he had the same look on his face whenever Cristiano had texted him?_ “You can go, you know. He’s waiting for you, Geri.”

Gerard had turned his head to grin at him before he had jumped onto his feet, the door nearly banging against the wall due to the zest that the Spaniard had opened it with. Leo had snorted, had shaken his head and had set his almost empty water bottle aside to bend down and loosen the laces of his shoes. Still smiling after he had kicked his shoes, he had pulled his socks off and had stood to relieve himself of his sweat-stained jersey and undershirt as well. He had dumped them onto the floor before he had stretched with a suppressed groan and had run both of his hands through his hair in a somewhat impulsive motion. His shorts and underwear had joined his jersey and undershirt on the floor a few seconds later. He had hummed the soft tune of a song he had heard on the radio earlier that day under his breath as he had opened his locker to grab a towel and his shampoo, trotting off to the showers with both of them in his hands. 

Since he had been the only one in the showers, each and every one of his shuffled steps had resounded quite loudly throughout the tiled room and Leo had found himself growing increasingly, and most annoyingly nervous as he had turned the shower on and had stepped underneath the warm stream. Showering alone after a game may not have been what he had done all that often, but he had laughed out loudly about his own absurdity when he had physically needed to resist the urge to turn around and check if he had truly been the last one of his team who yet had to leave, as the subtile feeling of being watched had been unnerving. Him laughing may not have helped to ease down said feeling, but Leo had still closed his eyes as he had allowed the warm water to wash over him and relieve his aching muscles of some of their ache.

He had been about to blindly reach for the bottle of shampoo when a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around his waist and had pulled him back against a hard, _naked_ chest with a rough tug, causing him to let out a quite high-pitched squeak of surprise.The baritone laughter that had come as an answer to his squeak had been followed by the a light touch of lips against his ear, and his heart had calmed in its panicked racing. “I missed you, bebê.”

“Cristiano...” That it could not have been anyone else but his lover Leo had already known, of course, but his chest had still tightened at the realisation that it had truly been Cristiano. He had been back in his arms, even if it would be for no longer than the night before they would be forced to be without each other yet again. The arms around his waist had loosened enough to allow him to shift, and he had absentmindedly turned off the shower before he had turned around. Cristiano’s eyes had been soft when Leo had raised his gaze to meet then, and he had kept their eyes locked while he had leaned forward to nestle his cheek against Cristiano’s chest. “I missed you too,” had been all that he had gotten to whisper before the pair of hands had discarded his waist to cup his face instead and had tilted his head back to make it possible for Cristiano to kiss him.

A demanding tongue had pushed against his lips the second after their lips had met, making Leo whimper as he immediately granted Cristiano the opportunity to claim his mouth just how the Portuguese had desired it. “I’m not used to missing someone like that,” Cristiano had breathed when they had paused to catch their breaths, “and it’s driving me crazy, Leo. You’re the only thing that I can think about.” Leo had been kissed again before he could have answered and Cristiano had, without breaking apart, moved his hands down the light curve of his back to splay them over the swell of his ass, squeezing and pulling at the soft flesh. It had left him breathless and downright clung at his boyfriend’s upper arms. He had gasped when he had felt the first touch of the older man’s finger on the sensitive skin between his cheeks and he had arched against him to show that he had been anything but opposed to Cristiano’s wordless suggestion. 

The Portuguese’s next act had happened just as wordlessly - he had stepped back, had taken Leo by the waist once again and had downright whirled him around before crowding him against the tiled wall, though making sure that the shorter man would not hit his head. Leo had gasped nonetheless, his eyes fluttering close when Cristiano had kissed down the side of his neck. “You looked so good out there,” Cristiano had muttered between the kisses, “it’s your fault that we lost.”

It had been meant as a joke, of course, and so Leo had laughed and had tilted his head to give Cristiano a better access. “Oh I doubt that,” he had said with a chuckle, “Ney and I would’ve beaten you anyway.”

He had not even fully registered the fact that Cristiano had pulled a hand back to give his ass a smack before he had felt the first hint of teeth on his neck. His knees had nearly given out from the overwhelming mixture of pain and arousal. “You and Ney,” Cristiano had growled once he had finished sucking a bruise onto Leo’s skin, on a spot high enough that it would not be covered by the collar of his shirt. “You and _Ney_.”

“Cris-”

“He did it on purpose, didn’t he?” His eyelids had fluttered close when Cristiano’s fingers had digged into his waist hard enough to leave bruises behind. The spot on his ass that had been smacked a moment ago had throbbed with every beat of his heart, sending waves of pleasure to his cock. “He knew that I was watching you and he fucking _kissed_ you-” Cristiano had cut himself off by nuzzling his mouth against Leo’s neck, the tip of his tongue ghosting over the bruise he had sucked into the otherwise unmarked skin. He had tightened the hold on the younger man’s waist and Leo’s breath had hitched when he had felt Cristiano’s erection pressed against his ass. He had arched against it out of reflex, basking in the sharp intake of breath it had earned him. “I can’t stand it,” Cristiano had went on, his voice barely above a whisper. Leo had been able to hear the break in it nonetheless, “I don’t want anyone else touching what’s mine. I don’t want _him_ putting his hands onto you, bebê. Você é meu, entende?”

“I’m yours,” he had whispered and had, when he had perceived how Cristiano had taken a step back, bitten his lower lip and had squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation.

“Fuck, bebê.” Cristiano’s fingers had ghosted over the red handprint that the smack had left behind before they had splayed out over Leo’s cheeks to roughly spread them apart, “I wanted to fuck you properly, but....”

If someone would have told him, just a few months ago, that he would ever have sex with Cristiano Ronaldo in the team showers of Camp Nou, Leo certainly would have called them crazy. But there they had been, and Leo’s mind had come to a crashing halt at the first bold stroke of Cristiano’s thumb over his puckered hole. He could not have waited until they would come together in the hotel. “I need you,” he had thus whimpered, keeping his bottom lip caught between his teeth when he had turned his head to catch a sight of Cristiano. “Now, Cristiano.”

The Portuguese had let out a low-throated growl and had, without taking his eyes off Leo’s face, reached for the bottle of shampoo that had stood on the shower caddy. It had been less than ideal and Leo had thanked himself for not having picked the mint one, but it had been better than having no lube at all. Cristiano had entered him with two fingers at once, working on loosening the tight muscle with quick and skilled jabs which had been nowhere as gentle as the first time that Leo had felt them. It had burned and stung, though he had forgotten about the pain as soon as Cristiano had found his prostate.

“Cristiano,” he had whimpered, arching his back in an effort to push himself fully onto the digits.

“Eu vou te foder tanto, você apenas esperar,” Cristiano had growled and Leo had failed to bite back a moan at the way that the older man’s voice had darkened, the accent thickly laced upon it. Cristiano had continued to prepare him for a few more moments before he had pulled his fingers out, had poured a bit more of the shampoo into his palm to lube his cock and had roughly grabbed Leo’s hips to pull him back and onto his cock.

It had not been the love making that Leo had expected. He would not have dreamed to complain about it, however. The world around him had come to a halt as Cristiano had pushed into him with a single, controlled thrust, holding his hips firmly in place with strong hands. They had both moaned brokenly and quite loudly when Cristiano had been fully seated inside of him. Leo’s hands had slipped on the tiled wall and he had scrambled for purchase, moaning again at the way that his boyfriend had moved his hips without pulling out an inch, “Fuck...”

“That good, bebê?” 

He may not have seen Cristiano’s face, but he had been more than just able to hear the smug smirk which had been dominating his face. “Cristiano-” Whatever it had been that Leo had wanted to say had been reduced to a broken moan when Cristiano had begun to fuck him in earnest, had moved his his hips back until only the tip of his cock had remained inside of him before he had snapped forward and had driven the entire length of it back into him.

“Olhe para você, bebê,” the older man had groaned. “You should see yourself, taking me like you were made for it. Você é tão lindo.” 

Cristiano had made love to him on the night of his thirtieth birthday but he had _claimed_ him right there in the team showers of Camp Nou and the realisation of it alone had nearly been enough to push Leo over the edge. Considering where they had been, he had been more than fine with being taken so roughly. He had moaned, a bit louder that time, when his boyfriend had shifted in order to change the angle he had been thrusting into him, and had leaned his forehead against the wall. It had not lingered there for long. The Portuguese had kept his right hand firmly on Leo’s waist and had reached around the shorter man’s body with the other, closing it around his throat. Leo had managed nothing more than a whimper of Cristiano’s name as his boyfriend had used the hold he had on his throat to turn his head, just enough for the older man to kiss him.

It had been all kind of sloppy. The way that Cristiano had dominated the kiss, that Cristiano’s hips had never faltered in their fast and precise rhythm and the fact that Cristiano had muttered sweet word of adoration against his lips at the same time had been nearly overwhelming to Leo and he had reached for anything of his boyfriend that he could have held on to. That neither of them had been destined to last for long had been of no surprise. Cristiano had let out a humming sound of approval when Leo had clung onto his forearm as if it had been his lifeline.

“I missed you so fucking much, bebê.” The Portuguese’s voice had been hoarse, close to the point of breaking, the only sign that had showed how close he had been to his orgasm, “Do you know how lonely I’ve been without you? How much I wished that I could fall asleep with you in my arms?”

“Cris,” Leo had let out a sound that had stood somewhere between a moan and a sob, the tension in his lower stomach increasing to a tenfold and when he had finally come, his legs had turned weak enough that he would have fallen to the floor if it would not have been for Cristiano holding his throat and waist. His body had clenched around Cristiano, who had finished with a few last, erratic thrusts before he had spilled his release inside of him. Cristiano had let go of Leo’s waist to plant his hand onto the tiled wall instead, probably to ensure that he would not lose his footing either. 

“God, Leo...” Unable to bring out a single word, Leo had merely continued to pant as he had waited for the overwhelming waves of the orgasm to stop clashing above his head. He had barely registered that Cristiano had stepped back and had pulled his softening cock out of him and had only come somewhat back to his senses when he had been turned around and kissed, though much more gentle than mere moments ago. “I love you,” Cristiano had whispered, placing an array of gentle kisses on Leo’s cheeks and forehead, “I love you so much, bebê.” Keeping one arm wrapped around Leo, the older man had turned on the shower and had combed his fingers through Leo’s wet hair. “Finish your shower. I’ll meet you in the hotel, okay?”

“Okay,” had been all that he had managed to breathe in response and Cristiano had kissed his forehead once more before he had reached for the towel that he had brought with him, had wrapped it around his waist and had left the room. 

Leo’s face had split into a tired, but very much love-struck smile as he had turned back around and had stepped back underneath the stream of warm water to clean himself. The cum sticking to his stomach had not been the only remnant of remnant of Cristiano’s presence - his backside had ached with even the tiniest of movements he had done. Sure, it had been a lot rougher than he had imagined their reunion sex to be, but it would have been a blatant lie if he would have said that he had not been extatic about it anyway. Jealous Cristiano had been... something different. 

He had forced himself to stop thinking as he had reached for the shampoo, that time to use it on his hair. The smile had never left his face when he had finished showering and had hurried to dry and dress himself. Cristiano had already send him a couple of text by the time that he had gotten around to check his phone for the first time after having stepped into the showers.

 _Cristiano:_ [You were absolutely breathtaking bebê ❤️😩]

 _Cristiano:_ [God you were so amazing]

 _Cristiano:_ [I hope that I wasn’t too rough with you... ]

 _Cristiano:_ [Can’t wait to see you later, I’ll try to come asap!]

 _Cristiano:_ [I love you ❤️😘]

Leo’s heart had somersaulted when he had typed his reply.

[You were amazing too, don’t worry about it!]

[I love you too 🥰]

If it would not have been the El Clásico as for why Cristiano had come to Barcelona, Leo would have driven home instead of to the hotel room that he had booked for the night but there simply had been too much press in the city to allow Cristiano to drive to him without being followed and bombarded by paparazzi. The hotel had been Cristiano’s idea and the Portuguese’s hope for a few hours of togetherness for the two of them. Leo had accepted it in an instant, of course. 

The drive to said hotel had been a rather uncomfortable one for Leo. Keeping his eyes and concentration fixed onto the street while his backside had protested against the pressure of being seated would have been hard even if he would not have been exhausted by the game. He thankfully had managed to make it to the hotel without damaging his or anyone else’s car, had passed the keys and a tip to the valet and had stole himself away to the elevator, successfully dodging any requests for a selfie or an autograph. Leo had let out a sigh of relief when he had closed the door to their hotel room behind him, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the sight of Cristiano’s suitcase standing beside the small side table. Cristiano otherwise would have been roomed with Sergio for the night and the Spaniard had been more than eager for his friend to leave, as him and Gerard had been in a situation similar to Leo and Cristiano’s. Considering that the two had nearly clashed on the pitch again, they too would have to meet in a hotel room instead.

With a yawn, Leo had kicked off his shoes, had thrown his bag onto one of the nearby armchairs and had moved through the spacious room towards the king-sized bed, blindly grabbing his small suitcase as he had walked past it. He had not needed to pack all that much, only what he would need for the night and the following morning, since he would return to his home after Cristiano would leave for the airport, and so it had not taken him much rummaging to find more loosely-fitting close to change into while he would wait for the Portuguese to show up - his favourite oversized hoodie and a pair of boxer shorts.

Leo had balled them up and had thrown them onto the bed before he had closed the suitcase again and had set it aside, letting out a tired sigh when he had plopped down onto the edge of his bed to pull of his Barça hoodie and shrug off his trousers. An almost ridiculous smile had grown on his face as he had reached for the balled-up clothes. Ever since Cristiano had given him his Real Madrid hoodie, there had rarely been night during which Leo had not slept in it. It had since stopped smelling like Cristiano, but Leo had loved the way that he had seemed to drown in the piece of clothing and so the smile had not disappeared from his face when he had pulled the hem of the hoodie over his head. If it would have been any other hoodie, the _Fly Emirates_ print on his chest would have disgusted him.

He had not really cared that he had grinned like a love-struck teenager due to the fact that he had been wearing one of his boyfriend’s hoodies and he had been tempted to send a selfie with him wearing it to Luis, but had decided against it. The chances that his friend would get it wrong and suffer from a heart attack had been too high, something that had made him snort and shake his head while he had changed his underwear. Then that he had been sitting for a quiet moment, he had felt a sudden and overwhelming wave of exhaustion wash over him and so Leo had bothered with little more than putting his worn clothes aside before he had grabbed his headphones off the nightstand and had turned to lie down on the bed. On his stomach, of course.

He had fought the urge to press his face into the pillow that he had pulled close, for his smile had widened into a grin. If Cristiano would have suggested it, he certainly would not have been averse to try that again. Though with proper lube instead of shampoo. Maybe he should keep a bottle in his locker? _Just in case_ , he had thought to himself and had snorted as he had plugged his headphones into his phone and had nestled his cheek into the pillow, getting into a comfortable position. It had not been his goal to fall asleep, though he should have known that it had been pretty much inevitable.

Having selected one of the audio books he had downloaded, Leo had put his phone on silent after the first roaring voice message from an already drunk Suárez had popped up in the Barça group chat and had allowed his heavy eyelids to fall shut while he had relaxed to the soothing voice of the reader. He had not even made it through the first chapter before he had fallen asleep. The constant, albeit soothing voice from the earphones had prevented Leo from waking up like he usually would have done it when a keycard had been put into the slot and the door had been opened.

༻✦༺

“Olá bebê, care to explain to me as for why you-” Cristiano had entered the room with quite the zest in his gate, something that Leo certainly would have commented on as it had not been him who had won, shouldering his gym bag and carrying a brown paper bag from a nearby restaurant. The teasing greating had died in the Portuguese’s throat at the sight of Leo fast asleep with his face hidden in a pillow and one knee drawn up, and he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he had set the paper back down onto the side table as quietly as he could have done it in order to pull out his iPhone from the front pocket of his sweatpants.

A faint blush had risen into his tanned cheeks when he had taken a photo of his sleeping boyfriend. Whether Leo had been aware that he had taken photos of him whenever they had been together, Cristiano had not known, though he had doubted that the younger man would have had a serious problem with him doing so. He had kept the photos for himself, to scroll through them when he had felt lonely in the silence of his bedroom. It had only been the one which he had taken during his birthday dinner that he had shown to his Mãe when she had visited him for breakfast the morning after his birthday and has asked, with a knowing twinkle in her eyes, why her son had been so happy.

Making sure that the large _7_ had been in the centre of the second photo, Cristiano had put his phone onto the side table beside the food he had brought and had taken off his shoes before he had tiptoed over to the bed. Leo had not stirred when the Portuguese had climbed onto the bed with slow and measured movements. Cristiano had pulled the plug out of Leo’s ear, laughing softly at the way that the younger man’s nose had wrinkled at the gentle disturbance of his sleep. “Bebê,” he had whispered and had leaned down to place random kissed over Leo’s smooth-shaven cheek. “Come on, wake up.”

༻✦༺

Leo’s brows had pulled together and he had groaned in confusion, squeezing his eyes shut. It had taken a few seconds until he had understood that he had fallen asleep, and that Cristiano had been kneeling above him, “I-I fell asleep?”

The Portuguese had hummed and had combed a hand through Leo’s hair, once more leaning down to kiss him softly. “Apparently so,” Cristiano had huffed a laugh, “are you that tired?” Leo had gasped when he had felt Cristiano’s fingers slowly claiming their way underneath the hem of his hoodie to ghost over the skin of his back, leaving goosebumps behind. “You look very cute with my seven on your back, bebê.” Muttering something under his breath, Leo had brought his hands up to rub at his eyes. His heart had somersaulted when Cristiano had kissed him and had laughed against his lips, “I called you, but you didn’t pick up your phone.”

Leo had felt his cheeks hearing up, “Oh...”, and had blindly felt for his phone. Indeed, there had been three unanswered calls and a handful of messages from Cristiano. “I’m sorry,” he had whispered, turning off the silent mode before he had set his phone aside again and had smiled up at the older man.

“It’s alright, bebê. I wanted to ask you what you want to eat, I stopped at a restaurant to get us something but since you didn’t answer, I just picked something that I hoped you’d like.”

The fact that Cristiano had muttered the last part almost sheepishly had caused Leo’s smile to widen and he had raised onto his elbows to kiss him, “Thank you, I’m sure that it’s fine.”

Cristiano had smiled at him before he had gotten off the bed to get the bag from the side table and had claimed the free side of the king-sized bed for himself. Leo had accepted the cutlery and the small stack of napkins that had been offered to him. “I hope that you like Carbonara,” Cristiano had said as he had reached inside the paper once more to pull out the individually packed meals. Leo had smiled at him, had nodded and had moved to sit up, letting out a small whimper at the pressure. Cristiano’s face had fallen and his hands had frozen in their movement at the wince that Leo had failed to suppress. “You’re hurt?”

“It’s okay,” he had hurried to say, smiling yet again, “really it’s okay.”

“Bebê-”

“I’m just a bit sore, Cristiano. I’m okay.” The Portuguese had looked at him with remorse openly written on his face and Leo had shifted onto his knees to lean over and kiss him, smiling into the kiss when Cristiano had driven his fingers into his hair to pull him closer for the duration of the kiss. “I... had fun,” he had whispered, “and I’ll heal.”

“I’ll be more careful next time,” Cristiano had muttered after he had let go of him, so low as if Leo had not been supposed to hear it.

“Carbonara is good,” Leo had said instead, partly to change the topic but also because his stomach had made itself known at the mouthwatering smell which the takeout boxes had given off, and when he had taken the box that had _Carbonara_ scribbled on its top, he had missed how Cristiano had shown an undeniably dreamy smile to him. “Thank you for bringing it, Cris.”

“You’re more than welcome, bebê.”

Sitting back down, Leo had moved into a cross-legged position and had set the box with the noodles down on the mattress in front of him. Neither of them had said much as they had eaten, for they had both been pretty much starved after the game and Cristiano had stated that the banana he had in the car had only made his hunger worse. That the blush had not left Leo’s face had been due to the hand that had rested on his naked thigh the entire time as the Portuguese had managed to eat his meal with only one hand, and when Leo had been the first to finish, he had put both of his hands on top of Cristiano’s. If he would have tried, he would have failed to bring the feelings he had harboured for the other man into words. He had been utterly in love with him.

Once Cristiano had finished eating as well, he had taken the empty boxes and had shoved them back into the bag to then place it rather unceremoniously on the nightstand. Leo had been about to lay back down with a satisfied groan, a groan that had turned into a gasp when he had suddenly found himself wrapped into a pair of strong arms and tugged forward, “Cris!” 

He had landed on top of Cristiano with a squeal, and the Portuguese had chuckled as he had pressed a quick kiss into Leo’s hair, “I missed you, bebê.”

Propping his cheek up on Cristiano’s chest to get a look at his face, he had begun to trace the muscles under the fabric of the tight-fitting shirt. What he would have given to have moments like these every day. “I missed you too.”

“I’ll make sure that we’ll see each other more often,” the older man had whispered, once more with such a low voice that it could have been directed at himself, “okay, bebê? I’ll try harder to find a free day or two...” Cristiano had combed through his hair, “I didn’t lie when I said that you’re the only thing that I can think about, Leo.”

Turning his head, Leo had kissed the slightly calloused inside of Cristiano’s hand. “I love you,” he had said with a voice no louder than Cristiano’s had been, whispering his words gainst the skin that had felt so rough against his face before he had pressed another kiss into it. His cheeks had flared up when he had to admit, to himself, that he had truly lost himself completely in the love for the other man, though his minor embarrassment had been worth it at the grin which Cristiano had beamed at him.

“Come here and give me a kiss, bebê.” Leo had immediately come after the request and had draped himself over Cristiano after he had moved until he had been able to kiss the Portuguese’s lips. “Eu nunca mais quero ficar sem você,” Cristiano had muttered, nuzzling his nose against Leo’s cheek once their kiss had ended. “Eu te amo muito. What do you say if we... stay in bed, hm?” One of Cristiano’s hands had ghosted over the curve of the younger man’s back to splay itself over the swell of Leo’s ass, gently caressing it.

“Cris, I’m still-” Leo had been cut off by another kiss.

“Not for that, bebê, just for Netflix and cuddling. Eu não quero deixar você ir.”

He had snorted and had kissed a corner of Cristiano’s nouth, “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

His backside had been given a light smack before Cristiano had rolled him off from him. “Get ready then,” the older man had chirped, his smile slowly growing into a rather smug grin when he had crossed his arms behind his head and had watched how Leo had climbed off the bed.

“You’re so _Ronaldo_ today.” Leo had kept his tone a teasing one, though had cocked an eyebrow as if he had been ready to get into the 'Messi mode' that the media had always torn him to shreds over - emotionless. Cristiano, however, had seen it often enough on the pitch to know that he had merely faked it. “And considering that it’s _us_ who won...” He had dashed into the adjoined bathroom with a squealed laugh at the look that he had received in return.

“And you’re being a brat!”, Cristiano had called after him just as he had closed the bathroom door behind him and Leo had shaken his head, his cheeks tingling at the sound of Cristiano’s laughter.

Shaking his head once more, he had moved over to the washbasin. The collar of the Real hoodie had been oversized enough to reveal a sight of his his collarbones - and the vividly red bruise that Cristiano had left on his neck during their engagement in the showers of Camp Nou. Leo had dug his teeth into his bottom lip as he had brough up a hand to carefully feel at the love bite, gasping at the twinge it had triggered and grinning at his reflection in the mirror. If he would not have been so sore, he certainly would have returned to his position on top of Cristiano and show him just how happy he had been with their arrangement for the night.

Snorting at his own thinking, he had grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste from the shelf. While he had brushed his teeth and had finished his other necessities, Leo had made out the muffled sound from the TV that Cristiano had turned on and the prospect of spending time wrapped-up in his arms had caused him to hurry even more than he would have done it otherwise. He had nearly walked into Cristiano’s broad chest as he had opened the bathroom door, and they had both laughed when the pair of tanned arms had closed around him. 

“You can choose whatever you’d like us to watch,” the Portuguese had muttered after he had leaned down to press a kiss into Leo’s hair, “I’ll be with you in a moment, bebê.” Leo had nodded and had leaned into the embrace for a second before he had pulled away. He had felt like an stupid teenager, blushing and nervous around the man he had loved. Ridiculous! The only time that he had blushed around Antonella had been the time that he had asked her whether she would like to go out with him. Smiling to himself, he had eventually decided on one of the comedy series he had begun some time ago and had drawn his knees to his chest as the cheerful intro had begun to play. “What are we watching, bebê?” Cristiano had joined him on the bed a few moments later, the minty taste of toothpaste on his lips when he had stolen a kiss from Leo.

“Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” The Portuguese had merely hummed, so as if he had not actually cared about what had been running on the TV, and had drawn Leo into his arms so that the shorter man had come to halfway lie on top of him. Cristiano had taken the leg that Leo had loosely draped over his and had drawn it up higher, splaying his hand over it. Leo’s heart had somersaulted at the subtile act of possessiveness. Resting his cheek on Cristiano’s chest, he had followed the series while Cristiano had kept a hold on his leg with one hand and had typed away at his phone with the other.

“Bebê?”

“Hm?”

Cristiano had kissed the top of his head before he had went on, “There’s a video of Junior that I forgot to send you. Do you want to see it?”

“Of course!” Leo had not bothered to pause the episode as he had wriggled to get into an upright position, though had settled again when Cristiano had squeezed his thigh and had held the phone in front of his face instead. He instantly had to smile at the sight of Junior, standing on his tiny, chubby legs.

“Olhe para mim, Junior,” Cristiano had said in the background of the video, apparently crouching down to get a better angle of the boy. “Venha até mim. Venha para o Pai, Junior.” Junior’s curls had bounced as he had grinned, giggled and had moved closer towards the camera.

“Pai!” Leo had felt his chest clenching at the breathed laughter Cristiano had let out on the video, “Pai! Pai!”

“Come here, menino. Come here, come to me. Eu te amo, venha aqui nino!”

“Pai!”

It had only been once the boy had come closer to the camera that Leo had seen what he had been grasping onto and he had turned his head to grin up at the Portuguese, “It really is his favourite, huh?”

Cristiano had laughed, “I told you that he can’t be without it,” and had kissed Leo’s forehead, making the younger man sigh and cuddle closer.

“He’s so precious.” As he had since returned his gaze back to the TV, he had missed the look of adoration that had flashed over Cristiano’s face at his words. They had cuddled together in silence until the ringing of Leo’s phone had disturbed them. “Where-”

“Is it Ney?”, the Portuguese had asked as he had hurried to retrieve the phone from where it had slipped underneath the covers and had passed it on to Leo. “Is it?”

Leo had forced a grin down at the change in Cristiano’s voice. Him being jealous of _Neymar_ had been... “It’s just Geri, Cris - Geri, hey.”

“Can you talk right now?” The Spaniard had sounded exhausted and Leo, feeling a stab of worry, had sat up. That Cristiano’s brows had pulled together in confusion, he had not noticed. “Just for a minute.”

“Yeah, of course. Are you okay? Is it... Is it Sergio again? What did he do?”

Gerard had laughed on the other end of the line, an honest laugh, as Leo had realised with relief. “It _is_ Sergio,” the Catalan had said, having dropped his voice to a lower level. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He only let me out of bed because I told him that I promised to call my mother.”

It had been Leo’s turn to laugh, “What?”

“I need a break, _I just need a break_ , Leo.”

“Where are you?”

“The balcony. Leo, he fucked me _five times_ since we came to the hotel. We didn’t even get around to order pizza yet, _I’m fucking sore_ and he still wants to go again.”

“That’s what you get for having Adonis as your boyfr- _ah!_ ”

“Leo?” Cristiano had growled, had grabbed him and had pulled him down on top of him to attack his neck with his lips and teeth as if he had not been on the phone with Gerard. “Leo?!”

“Sorry,” the younger man had gasped, trying, but failing miserably, to free himself from the embrace that Cristiano had locked him in. “It’s Cristiano, he’s-”

“You called Sergio Adonis in front of _Cristiano?_ ” His breath had hitched at the feeling of another hickey being sucked into his skin and he had buried his free hand in Cristiano’s hair. Gerard had whistled through his teeth, laughing, “I still can’t believe that you two... I mean you two out of all the people? Cristiano Ronaldo and Leo Messi? It sounds like a damn fairy tale if you ask me.”

“Yeah,” Leo had whispered, “sometimes I can’t believe it either.”

A muffled voice could have been heard on the other end of the line and he had grinned at the groan that Gerard had let out in response, “Adonis is calling for me.”

“Have fun.”

The Spaniard had snorted, “You too.”

Leo had barely ended the call before Cristiano had kissed him vigorously. “I get it that you’re jealous of Ney but there’s no reason for you to be jealous of Ram-”

“I’m not jealous of Sergio,” the Portuguese had muttered against his lips, “I just wish that I could show you off in front of my friends like he’s doing it with Piqué.”

The fact that Cristiano had not revealed their relationship to Sergio had sobered him quite a bit and he had pulled back to hinder himself from being kissed, “You didn’t tell him yet?” Leo had not wanted it to, but the prospect of him being kept a secret had send a stab into his chest. Sure, he had not expected him to come out by posting a kiss photo like Neymar had done it but Leo had been certain that he would have talked to the man, who had possibly been his best friend, by then. The thoughts that had been flashing through his mind must have been visible on his face.

He had missed how Cristiano had swallowed had before he had reached up to cup his face. “I’ll tell him,” he had whispered, stroking the skin over Leo’s cheekbones. “I’m dying to tell him, bebê, I really am but there... wasn’t the right moment to tell him yet. I though about doing so today, but then we lost...” He had been a bit ashamed about having doubted Cristiano’s words and had blushed, averting his gaze to the pillow beside the older man’s head. “I don’t want to hide what we have,” Cristiano had went on, his thumbs never stopping in their motion, “not more than I have to, Leo. And that’s already hard enough.”

With an embarrassed groan, Leo had lowered his head to press his face into the crook of Cristiano’s neck. “’M sorry,” he had muttered, shifting a bit when Cristiano had chuckled and had tightened his embrace.

“It’s okay, bebê.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me a while! Uni work (sadly) doesn't vanish while Covid-19 is currently messing up our lives, plus this chapter turned out to be the longest one yet (I thought about splitting it into two parts but it just didn't feel right? :-D).
> 
> Also, because I've gotten the question a few times: this will be a long story, since I'll go over the milestones of their relationship before jumping back to the present. Just giving a heads-up to those who don't like long and/or slow-build stories :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Friday, 05. June 2015.**_

Despite Cristiano’s promise that they would see each other more often and that he would try to find a free day or two, they had not actually gotten around to see each other in person throughout the entity of the months of April and May. Even if he would have wanted to, Leo never could have blamed his boyfriend for it. It had seemed as if life had shown itself from its ugly side to them in order to test the level of perseverance that the both of them would be willing to bring up for the sake of their relationship, but it had weighted incredibly heavy on his shoulders. They had both been busy, their days filled out by their jobs and whenever they had managed to find a weekend during which it would have been possible for either of them to fly over, something had come in the way and had shattered their plans. 

One time it had been a minor injury on Leo’s side, another time it had been a family emergency on Cristiano’s or unexpected duties of jobs had put an end to their plans at the very last second. They had groaned, complained and even argued about it but had promised that they would simply make it work at another occasion. By the time that it had happened the _fifth_ consecutive time, then because Leo’s mother had fallen down the stairs and had suffered from a concussion the day before she had been due to return to Argentina, it would have been a gross understatement if Leo would have said that he had not grown incredibly scared of losing Cristiano during the course of those weeks. And how scared he had been.

He had not been particularly scared of Cristiano finding another person, at least not as much as he had been frightened of his boyfriend suddenly realising he did not want a relationship like theirs, where they would need to fight in order to see each other. Despite his worry consuming most of his thoughts, Leo had not mentioned it to the Portuguese. He had put up a brave face whenever he and Christiano had called or FaceTimed each other, their conversations often lasting for more than an hour, only to soak his pillow with his tears after the call would have ended and it had eventually been Gerard who had, figuratively speaking, stepped forward and had let the Portuguese known how much Leo had suffered under the unfortunate circumstances.

“You don’t look good,” Gerard had said when they had been sitting on Leo’s terrace on a Friday evening after Leo’s plan of flying to Madrid had dissolved into nothing but thin air once again.

The Argentine had shrugged and had drawn a slow slip from his water in order to excuse his silence. He had known that Gerard had been right. The fact that he had not slept much the past few days had shown in the dark bags which had hung heavily underneath his eyes. “I’m okay,” he had eventually answered, failing to hide a weary sigh as he put his glass back down onto the coaster.

“Don’t talk shit to me.” Gerard had sounded worried rather than angry, “I’m sorry for saying it like this, Leo, but you know damn well that you can’t lie to me. I know you. And I can tell that you’re feeling anything but okay.” Leo had swallowed hard. “Is it Cristiano?” The mention of his boyfriend’s name alone had been enough to bring tears to his eyes and he had given in to them with a sob, dropping his head and burying his face in his palms. “Oh...” The Catalan had clicked his tongue and had stood to move around the table and crouch down by his side to draw him into an embrace, “Are you two... You didn’t break up, did you?”

“No,” he had managed to bring out before he had been choked up by another sob, “not yet at least.”

The pair of long arms had tightened around him, “What happened?”

Between his sobs Leo had told Gerard about the many plans he and Cristiano had, about how often either of them had been ready to fly over and how life, fate or God himself had cut them short every single time. “I don’t know what to do,” he had sobbed, not caring that they had been outside on his terrace and thus in danger of being photographed by an especially ruthless paparazzo. “He always says that it’s not a problem, that he understands and that he isn’t blaming me but... what if he doesn’t want to do it anymore?”

“Leo...”

“I’m so _scared_ of losing him, Geri. I love him so much and I’m scared that if I lose him I’ll never...”

Gerard had stayed quiet for a moment afterwards, had merely continued to move his fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort. “You know that I can’t stand him all that much but if there’s one thing that even Ney needs to admit, it’s that Cristiano is undeniably loyal,” the Catalan had eventually said. “He loves you, Leo. He might not have told Sergio and the others yet, but he’s so in love with you. It’s obvious.”

“You-You really think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that. If I would think that he’s treating you like his most recent piece of arm candy I would’ve told you right away because you’re one of my best friends and I don’t want you to get your heart broken. Cristiano loves you, Leo. And I’m not talking about the fact that he bought you the Rolex or that he claimed Ser’s and my spot in the showers for you.” Despite his tears, Leo had joined Gerard in short outburst of laughter. “I’m talking about the way that he invited you to his birthday and postponed the celebrations with his friends and family for it. That he calls and texts you whenever he can - Sergio’s been groaning about how he’s always on his phone when their playing FIFA. You two are _in love_. Yeah, the distance sucks. We all know that. But don’t let it destroy what you have.” 

Gerard had tightened the embrace once more before he had pulled back, allowing Leo to bring his hands up in order to wipe at his tear-stained face. “Thank you,” he had muttered, “thank you, Geri. I know that I’m being ridiculous-”

“Oh shut up,” his friend had cut him off with a kind laugh, “remember what happened on Valentine’s Day? _I_ was being ridiculous back then.”

“At least Sergio made it up to you, huh?”

Leo continued to wipe at his face, though had chuckled when Gerard winced in remembrance of the night after the Clásico. “In a way. Did you tell him?”

“Hm?”

“That it’s so hard for you.”

He had stilled for a moment, then had shaken his head and had leaned back into his chair. “No,” he had muttered, “I... I don’t want him to think that I’m being... you know.”

“I’m willing to bet my left leg that he’s not feeling any better than you are. You should tell him.”

His stomach had dropped at the prospect. _What if Cristiano would take it wrong? If he would think that he didn’t trust him?_ “I can’t,” Leo had thus said, once more with a mutter, shaking his head in resignation, “I just hope that we’ll see each before the next Clásico.”

Gerard had looked at him in disbelief, “The next Clásico won’t be for a few more months. If it’s gonna happen.”

Closing his eyes, Leo had wiped a stray tear away, “Not that unlikely, considering that we saw each other in March...”

“He invited you to Junior’s birthday, didn’t he? And that’s in two weeks.”

He had shrugged, “Wouldn’t be surprised if that doesn’t work out either,” and had reached for his nearly empty glass while Gerard had continued to look at him in silence. If he would have looked at him, he would have noticed the determination on his friend’s face. They had avoided the topic of Cristiano for rest of the evening, had instead talked about whatever plans they had for their short summer break.

Gerard and Sergio had planned to visit the farm, to check on the horses and to spend a few days at least a bit more protected from the public. And Leo? It had been to soon for him and Cristiano to think about going on a holiday together, even if the Portuguese had told him that he would have loved to show him around Madeira, and so Leo had had thought about spending the week traveling instead of sulking about how much he had missed his boyfriend. “Maybe I’ll just stay here,” he had said, “or book a hotel somewhere and disappear for a week. I don’t know.”

“You should probably get out of Barcelona,” Gerard had intervened. “Or out of your house, at least.”

“You really don’t have to worry about me, Geri.”

“You can tell me that when you no longer look like you just came from the set of The Walking Dead.”

He had snorted at the comparison. “Well that’s not nice.”

“I’m just being honest.”

Leo had shaken his head, though there had been an honest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had appreciated the fact that Gerard had been there for him so much that he had felt himself getting emotional over again. “Thank you,” he had whispered with a cracking voice, “I only have you and Ney to talk about... Cristiano and me.”

“It won’t be like that forever, Leo. I promise that it won’t.” They had eventually stood and Leo had brought Gerard to the door, even though the Spaniard had protested and had said that he had been familiar enough to find the way out on his own. “Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”, his friend had muttered when they had hugged each other goodbye and while he had not known what Gerard had hinted at, he had hummed in agreement.

༻✦༺

Gerard had sighed wearily, had run a hand over his face and had blindly selected Gerard’s contact to tap on the call button with yet another sigh as he had started his car and had reversed it from Leo’s driveway. He should have known that it would happen. His best friend had always been so sensitive and his relationship with Cristiano was... “Hey bebé, you know that I love you but it’s a _really_ bad time right now,” Sergio had greeted him and Gerard had heard muffled laughter through the speakerphone, the sound of if resounding loudly throughout the car. “We’re playing FIFA and I’m just winning against Iker aka-”

“Is Ronaldo there?”, he had cut his boyfriend off. While Sergio’s excitement had been adorable, he had lacked the nerve for beating around the bush in that very moment.

The older man’s laughter had ceased, “Yeah, he’s here. But what do you want from Cristiano, bebé? Should I be jealous?”

His car had rolled to a halt at a red light and he had thrown his head back in laughter, “Yeah right, as if. I wouldn’t have to look in Madrid to find someone to make you jealous. Can I talk to him, please?”

“You just hurt my heart, wow,” Sergio had sniffled. “And I love you so much... Cris!”

“What,” Gerard had heard the Portuguese calling in the background.

“Geri wants to talk to you.”

“Piqué? The hell does he want from me?” _To talk about the strain that you’re putting on your boyfriend who happens to be my best friend_ he had thought about saying, though had merely pressed his lips together and had continued driving. “Piqué.”

“Ronaldo,” he had pressed out through his teeth, trying to not sound as angry as he had felt with the man at the other end of the line.

“What is it?” It had probably been due to Sergio’s presence that Cristiano had not made a biting comment.

“I need to talk to you.”

The Portuguese had snorted, “I understood that much but what could _we_ possibly talk about?”

“Leo.”

The barely audible hitching of Cristiano’s breath had been followed by a few seconds of silence. “Hey where are you going?”, Sergio had called in the background, but Cristiano had not answered to the question. Gerard had heard a door being closed and an exhale of breath which had sounded rather unsteady. “Did something happen?” The worry in the Portuguese’s voice had been undeniable. “Is he hurt?”

Gerard had sighed, “Leo’s not hurt.”

“Graças a Deus.”

“But he’s not _fine_.”

“What do you mean?”

“Listen, I know it’s not your fault that you two don’t see each other as much as you’d like to. Shit happens, we all know that. But Leo is... he’s taking it badly, Cristiano. I wouldn’t have called you if I wouldn’t be so concerned about him.”

“Fuck.” The man on the other end of the line had muttered something under his breath. “What happened?”

“I don’t know if I should tell-”

“ _Please_ ,” Cristiano had interrupted him, “tell me what happened, I need to know what’s wrong with him.”

Taken aback by near whisper that Cristiano’s voice had dropped to, he had swerved onto his own driveway. He had sighed, had pulled the handbrake and had leaned back into his seat. “Let’s just it like this: I asked him if he’s alright, because he looks like he didn’t sleep in a week and when I mentioned you, he broke down into tears.”

“Oh meu bebê...”

“He probably won’t be too happy that I talked to you but he’s scared that he’s losing you right now and Leo’s my best friend. I can’t see him suffering like that.”

“I should’ve known, he told me that he wasn’t angry-”

Gerard could not have kept the snort down, “Come on, you know him. Do you really think that he’s blaming _you?_ No, he’s putting the entire blame for the situation onto his own shoulders. Like he always does.”

Cristiano’s tone of voice had continued to be abashed, “What can I do?”

“Is he your boyfriend or mine?” At the silence that had followed his mocking question, Gerard had sighed. “Look, I don’t expect you to drop everything and come to here. Just... talk to him. Tell him that he doesn’t have to wear himself thin like that, that he won’t lose you over something that’s not his fault.”

“He won’t,” the Portuguese had answered, though it could have been muttered to himself rather than to Gerard. “Fuck, I left my phone at home. Is it really so bad?”

Gerard had paused to spend a moment tracing the curve of his steering wheel with a languid finger. “Leo loves you a lot. I never though that I’d say it but...”

“And I love him,” Cristiano had retorted and other than Gerard had expected, there had not been any underlying awkwardness in what he had said. “More than I’ve loved anyone in a very long time.”

Sensing that their conversation had been coming to an end, Gerard had unbuckled his seatbelt. “You already know what I’m going to say, don’t you.”

“What?”

“That I’ll break your legs if you ever break his heart.”

It had been the exact same words that Cristiano had told him when he and Sergio had started dating instead of fucking each other on weekends and he had smiled when the Portuguese had chuckled. “I have no plans of doing so, you know. I love him.”

“You better not. Can you give the phone back to Ser?”

The background noise had intensified once more, signalling that Cristiano had walked back onto Sergio’s living room and Gerard’s smile grew when he had heard Sergio huffing and speaking with fake annoyance, “What do you want?”

“I love you,” he had said, having dropped his voice to a shamelessly lewd and purring tone, “you know, I wanted to FaceTime you but you’re neither alone nor in your bedroom...”

“¡Basta Gerard, sabes muy bien lo que me estás haciendo! ¡Para!”

“Claro que lo se, Papi.”

Sergio had groaned, and Gerard had laughed. “I’ll call you when the boys are gone.”

“I hope so.”

“I’m losing because of you. Thank you very much.”

“Love you,” he had chirped, angling his keys out of his bag and putting the fitting one into the lock of his front door.

“I love you too, baby.”

༻✦༺

Leo had allowed his eyes to fall shut and had leaned his forehead against the door after it had closed behind Gerard with a _click_ , staying in that postion for longer than he had really wanted to. He had been tired, both in body and in mind, having slept no more than four hours the past night and then being forced through a hellish training session. Not to mention how much had missed Cristiano. He had been so excited to see him and Junior again, to spend a few precious hours with him and to, at the end of the night, fall asleep wrapped up in his arms.

While Leo had not missed Antonella and the rather sober and platonic relationship he had with her, one thing that _had_ honestly yearned after had been the way that she had always been there. There had never been a time when they had not seen each other for weeks on end. Well aware that his overthinking had been ridiculous and very much in vain, he had banged his forehead against the door, too light to hurt himself, of course, and had pushed himself off the door. With a choked sob, which had been supposed to come out as a sigh, Leo had turned on the alarm system and had walked back to the terrace to collect the dishes Gerard and him had used in the course of the evening.

Considering how tired he had been, he rather would have liked to crawl into bed right away but since he had known that he probably would have done nothing else than crying, Leo had decided not to do so. Carrying the dishes to the kitchen, Leo had connected his phone to the bluetooth speakers, had selected one of his playlists and had turned on the music loud enough that would have earned him a complaint about nocturnal disturbance if he had any immediate neighbours before he had begun to rinse the plates. He had filled-up the dishwasher, had soaked and rinsed the pots and pans and had made sure that the countertops had been spotless. 

It had been close to half past ten when Leo had gotten the vacuum cleaner and Swiffer out of the storage room. Other than Gerard or Neymar, the only staff he had were his security. It had not been because of the money - cooking, cleaning and laundry for a one person household could easily be done in the free time that he had. Plus it had really helped to free his mind in situations like the one he had been in right then. With eyelids that had dropped heavier with each blink, Leo had spend an hour vacuuming and dusting the lower floor of his house before he had decided to call it a night and had hurried to brush his teeth in order to crawl into bed. He had not wanted to think of Cristiano while he had done so, because he had been anything _but_ a lovesick teenager, and had thrown one last, almost grieving look at his phone before he had pressed his face into his pillow.

Leo would have liked to call him, but Cristiano had send him a text earlier that night, stating that he would be at Sergio’s, and so he had merely squeezed his burning eyes shut, begging for sleep to take over him. He had eventually slipped into a light slumber, only to be torn out of it after what had felt like a minute. Groaning, he had run a tired hand over his face and it had taken him a few seconds to realise that the disturbance had come from his phone, which had been vibrating on his nightstand. Leo had felt his chest clenching when he had spotted Cristiano’s name on the screen. If his hand had been trembling as he had picked his phone up, he had not paid it any attention. “Hey,” he had slurred, rolling over onto his back and trying not to think about how empty his bed had felt.

“Bebê, it’s FaceTime,” Cristiano had laughed. It had been thanks to the bit of self-control that Leo had left that he had not thrown his phone across the room, but had dropped it onto the bed beside him with an incoherent mutter instead. He had been a mess and he had brought his hands up to rub at his tired eyes. The silence from the other end of the line had lasted long enough that Leo’s heart had dropped at the prospect of Cristiano having ended the call. Cristiano’s voice had been laced with a hint of something that Leo could not have put his finger upon, “Are you drunk?” 

“I’m not,” he had muttered, almost sheepishly, “but you just woke me up and I look... like a mess.”

“Come on bebê, show me your pretty face.”

“Cristiano...”

“Por favor. Eu gostaria de ver seu rosto _._ ” With a sigh and before the Portuguese could have tried to talk him into it, he had rolled over onto his stomach and had picked up his phone, though not without hiding half of his face behind his pillow. As embarassing as it had been, he had nearly gasped at the sight of Cristiano propped up on his bed without a shirt on. They had been together for nearly five months but he was still astonished by how good he had looked. Compared to him, Leo had felt like an ugly duckling. At most. “I was worried, you didn’t answer to any of my messages.”

“I-I didn’t see them.”

Cristiano had smiled at him, “That’s okay bebê, you can read them later. How are you?”

“I’m... pretty good. Tired. Training was a lot today and Geri stayed over quite late and then I decided to clean-”

“Bebê,” Cristiano had cut him off, gently but decisively, and if Leo would have had it in him to look at the screen, he would have seen how the Portuguese’s gaze had softened. “You don’t have to lie to me. Piqué called me.” Leo had closed his eyes as soon as he had felt the familiar burn again and had dropped his head, not able to bear the thought of looking at Cristiano, who had simply went on when it had become clear that he would not answer. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice had been barely above a whisper, something that had only pushed further tears into Leo’s eyes, “Do you think that I... don’t want to hear about it? That I don’t want to hear you saying that you’re having such a hard time right now? Leo, bebê, if you think that I don’t... Can you look at me?” Leo had hesitated for a second, but had eventually raised his gaze to the phone in his hand. He had barely been able to make out his boyfriend through the tears which had blurred his vision. “I love you and it doesn’t matter whether I’ll get to see you once a week or once a year, bebê. I love you.”

His breath had hitched and he had wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking hard to see clear, “Cristiano-”

“Piqué told me that you’re worrying about me breaking up with you because of this. Is that true?” Unable to speak, he had nodded. His heart had beaten so forcefully against his rips that he had felt nauseous. Cristiano had clicked his tongue, “Bebê, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I,” Leo had needed to swallow hard, “I thought that... it’s ridiculous. We’re no longer teenagers, and you’re not my first love.” He had pulled up his nose, “I just miss you a lot, Cristiano.”

“I miss you too, Leo, and I mean it. I’d rather have you in my arms right now.”

“That would be nice,” Leo had muttered, sniffling once as he wiped at his nose.

“You’ll come over for Junior’s birthday, won’t you?”

“I want to, but if-”

“Don’t jinx it, bebê,” Cristiano had interrupted him, “it’ll work.”

“I hope so.”

The Portuguese had shifted in his position of the bed, the sound of his covers crinkling so very far away and yet so comforting in a way that Leo could not have explained. “Can you believe that it’s nearly been five months since Zurich?” He had opened his mouth to answer, but Cristiano’s smile had turned into a full-on grin and he had felt his cheeks heating up. “Phew, _that_ sure was a night to remember.”

“True, no one I’ve been with ever came quicker.” The glare he had received had made him laugh and while he had, at first, been somewhat cross that Gerard had spoken with Cristiano, he had then been glad for it. He had felt better by then.

“Do I have to remind you how quick you came when-”

“No, no you don’t.”

They had grinned at each other. _God, how much Leo had loved him_. 

“Bebê?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise that you’ll tell me next time. I can see how tired you are, Leo.”

“I will,” he had muttered, even though the prospect of telling him had been a somewhat uncomfortable one. “I promise.”

“Good.” Cristiano had smiled at him, “Go to sleep bebê, I’m sorry for waking you up. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Good night, bebê.”

“Good night, Cris.”

He had ended the call and had hidden his face in the pillow, his cheeks throbbing from the blush that had crept into them and he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he had reached for his phone anew, that time to see whatever messages Cristiano had send him while he had been sleeping. They had spanned over the course of an hour and a half.

 _Cristiano:_ [I’m sorry that I didn’t text you, bebê. I forgot my phone at home.]

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed voice call.]

 _Cristiano:_ [Bebê?]

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed voice call.]

 _Cristiano:_ [Leo, why didn’t you tell me that you’re having such a hard time right now? Piqué called to tell me that you cried. I swear it broke my heart. I knew that it’s not easy for you but I had no idea that you’re suffering so badly...]

 _Cristiano:_ [I love you so, so much. Please don’t worry about something so stupid as me breaking up with you because of this.]

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed voice call.]

 _Cristiano:_ [I’d never break up with you and especially not like that and I’d rather tell you that in person but I don’t want to imagine my life without you anymore, Leo.]

 _Cristiano:_ [Honestly, I’ve had the same worries... That you might decide that you don’t want me under such circumstances. You’re such an incredible person, so lovable and gentle and one of the best things that ever happened to me in my life.]

 _Cristiano:_ [Not to mention that you’re beautiful. I mean it, I’ve been thinking so for years. Especially when we played against each other and you tried to ignore me 😉]

 _Cristiano:_ [I’m missing you like crazy right now, Junior’s sleeping on me and all I can think about it how nice it would be to have you beside me. I can’t believe it’s been over two months since I last saw you 💔]

 _Cristiano:_ [Please don’t think that I’m blaming you for this! I’m not, I’m really not! It’s not your fault that it’s just not working at the moment. Eu te amo muito! ❤️😘]

The bunch of messages had been followed by a selfie, which had been angled in a way that had put the sleeping child into focus. Thus only half of Cristiano’s face had been visible but Leo had felt his smiling at the smile that had Cristiano’s lips had been turned into and he had made sure to save the photo before he had set his phone aside. _Maybe_ , he had hoped, _it won’t be long until he would see it in person again_.

_**Junior’s second birthday, 17. June 2015.** _

“When will you land in Madrid, bebê?”

Leo, whose hands had been covered with flour and remnants of the dough he had kneaded mere moments ago, had pulled his brows together as he had thought about Cristiano’s question, “Around eleven, I think. I’ll check later and send you the flight number, okay?”

“Good.” Cristiano had let out a sound that had stood somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “I really can’t wait to see you.”

The corners of Leo’s mouth had turned up while his heart had soared within his chest. Oh, he had not beenable to wait either. Despite the series of unfortunate and quite troubling events which had made forced them to go through months of separation, it had seemed that he would board the flight to Madrid the next morning and Leo had been decidedly getting jittery at the thought of it. “You know that I can’t wait either,” he had sighed and had blindly reached for the pasty roller, though had ended up causing it to roll off the table. He had cursed quite loudly when it had landed on the floor with an annoyingly noisy _clank_ , “Oh vete a la mierda!”

“Leo?”

“I’m okay,” Leo had hurried to say before he had bend down to pick it back up, moving over to the skin to give it a quick rinse.

Cristiano had snorted on the other end of the line, “What are you even doing?”

“I’m... baking.”

“Baking?” The Portuguese’s laugh had resounded throughout the kitchen, “Bebê, did I ever tell you that you’d make a perfect housewife? I don’t know how many times you were either cooking, baking or cleaning when I called you.” The baritone sound of Cristiano’s laugh had caused Leo to shiver and blush, notwithstanding the fact that the other had not been able to see it. “You really would. I mean you spend a lot of time in the kitchen, refuse to hire a cleaning lady because you _like_ to clean and you’re really good with children.” He had groaned at the suddenly smug sound of Cristiano’s voice. “I’d say that I have an... _engagement_ for you once you’ve retired, bebê. I promise that I’ll pay you exceptionally well.”

Drying off the pasty roller and dusting it with a fresh layer of flour, he had laughed out as well, “Oh you mean after you retired first?”

“That’s what you wish for, isn’t it?”

“I mean who was the first of us to win four Ballon d’Ors?” Leo had since begun to roll out the chocolate chip dough to get it to the required thickness, calculating how many cookies he would manage to get out of it. “Not you.”

Cristiano had clicked his tongue, “Nice try bebê, but I know that you don’t really care about individual awards.”

“I mean without the right team neither you nor I could be on top of our game but it _was_ me.”

“What are you baking?”

“Oh so _now_ you want to change the topic,” he had chirped with a teasing voice.

“Não me provoque, Leo. Eu falo sério. What are you making?”

“Something for Junior.”

Cristiano had been strangely quiet for a few second, but before Leo could have wondered if he had possibly said something wrong the Portuguese had spoken again, “That’s... really sweet of you, bebê. You didn’t have to do that.” Cristiano’s voice had been surprisingly gentle, almost vulnerable and Leo had bitten his lip to stop himself from mentioning it. “God, I love you so much. I know that Junior will love whatever you’re making him. Oh bebê, eu te amo muito.”

“I love you too.”

They had continued to chat, about Junior and their training sessions, while Leo had worked on the cookies, having rummaged through the kitchen drawers earlier that day to find the extensive set of cookie cutters he had bought on a whim a few years ago. “Cristiano?”

“Hm?”

“How do you... Do you know what you’ll tell Sergio and the others? About why I’ll be there as well?”

“Sergio asked if it would be fine for him to bring Piqué, too,” Cristiano had said after a short break.

“Yeah, I know that.”

“So I thought that you and Piqué could... come together? Like _o_ _h look, Leo’s in Madrid too so I decided to bring him along_.”

Leo had finished the second row of J-shaped cookies and had switched to the 2-shaped cookie cutter. That Cristiano still had not hold his friends had rested like a knife in his heart but he had since stopped commenting on it. He had needed to trusted his boyfriend to know when it would be the right time to reveal their relationship. “I can already see Ramos’ face when I turn up,” he had wanted to say with a laugh, though it had come out more forced than he had thought it would.

“Bebê,” Cristiano had murmured, “he won’t do anything. Don’t worry about him.” They had fallen silent for a good few minutes, so as if Cristiano had been there to watch him work, neither of them thinking about ending the call. “Will you send me a photo once you’re done?”

Leo, who had just finished putting the tray into the oven, had laughed and had loosened the knot of his apron, “No, I won’t. It’s supposed to be a surprise for you son’s birthday, Cristiano! I don’t want you to spoil it!”

“Alright,” Cristiano had laughed, “whatever you say, bebê. You did cancel your hotel though, didn’t you?”

When Leo had booked his flights to and from Madrid, he had not really though about what he had been doing and had booked a hotel room for him in the same go. His boyfriend’s reaction to it, however, had been a bit over the top. _“Are you serious, Leo? No, I won’t let you stay in a damn hotel when you’re my guest. I should’ve done so when you visited me for my birthday. You’ll stay with me, okay bebê? Cancel your booking!”_ “Of course I did.” Leo had chuckled at the memory of Cristiano’s minor outburst, “You were very clear about that.”

“Very good.” The prospect of getting to spend two days with Cristiano after he had not seen his boyfriend for weeks had lifted Leo’s spirits to no end, causing him to smile for the remainder of their conversation. They had continued talking for a while, until Cristiano had needed to end the call in a hurry, having forgotten about Junior’s bedtime and thus being confronted with a tired, crying toddler. “I’m sorry, bebê. Está tudo bem, menino, você não precisa chorar. Pai te levará para a cama em um minuto, okay? Leo, I’m sorry. He’s-”

“It’s alright, Cris. Don’t worry.”

“I love you. God, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

Leo had hummed to the music which had been playing in the background while he had cleaned the backing utensils, waiting for the cookies to cool in order to put the frosting onto them. He had actually been tempted to send a photo of the finished treats to Cristiano, but had decided against it and had put cling film over the cooling rack to make sure that the cookies would not dry out before he had retreated to his bedroom for the night.

༻✦༺

He had woken up earlier than he would have needed to the next morning, almost two hours before his alarm had been due to ring, but he had simply been so excited and jittery that he had practically leapt out of bed at 6:15 to shave, take an extensive shower and to pack his suitcase. Leo had called Gerard when he had waited for the coffee machine to finish his Latte Macchiato. They would be taking the same flight to Madrid, though Gerard would act and pretend that he would collect Leo from the airport just, purely coincidental, of course, when Sergio would announce that they would set out for Cristiano’s place.

“This is so exciting,” the Catalan had said, laughing in a way that had simply forced Leo to roll his eyes without any real annoyance behind it. “I love plans like that. Ugh, I can’t wait until Ronaldo jumps over his shadow and finally tells Ser. I _need_ to get his face on camera. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if his reaction’s not going to top Ney’s. That was something, wasn’t it? He really looked like he was about to faint, ha!”

“And your eyes looked like they were about to fall out of your head,” Leo had snorted, stirring his coffee before taking a tentative sip, wincing when it had still been too hot.

“It _was_ a bit unexpected,” Gerard had tried to defence himself, “I mean _you_ and _Cristiano Ronaldo?_ As unexpected as it gets. Okay, maybe not as unexpected as Sergio managing to go through a season without any red cards but...”

“I know, but you know how confused I was when you told me about what went on between you and Sergio on your free weekends.”

“We really had to go and find us the most problematic men, huh?”

“Can’t help who you love.”

“That’s right, and we know that they’re really not _so_ bad.”

Leo’s face had lit up with a love-struck smile, “No, he’s not,” and he had absentmindedly traced the rim of his cup with his thumb.

Gerard had chuckled, “I’ll be at your place at eight-thirty. Be punctual.”

“You don’t have to tell _me_ ,” he had laughed and had ended the call, shaking his head with yet another snort.

Leo had barely been able to sit still during the eighty-five minutes that the flight from Barcelona to Madrid had lasted. He had send Cristiano a text before he had needed to turn his phone into flight mode, saying that he could not wait to see him again bit as they had reached flight altitude and Leo had watched the clouds, he had wished that he would not have send it. It surely had been a bit pathetic and overly-attatched, right? He had known that he had not been fair to Cristiano by thinking so, but he simply had not been able to help himself and he had sighed wearily, leaning his forehead against the small window.

His brooding had been interrupted when Gerard had gently nudged him in the rips, “Stop breaking your mind. I can barely watch it.”

“Then don’t.”

The Catalan had simply nudged him again, just as gently, “Come on, it’ll be fine. You know that it always will.”

Leo had managed to muster a somewhat convincing smile, “I know, I just... I never had a relationship like that...”, he had trailed off when Gerard had ruffled a hand through his hair.

“I know Leo, I know. But I promise that it’ll be fine. If Sergio and I manage, you and Ronaldo will, too. There’s no other way.”

“Thanks, Geri.”

“Don’t mention it.” They had landed on time and had, once they had exited the plane, successfully managed to dodge any paparazzo as they had retrieved the car that Gerard rented for their stay in advance. The Catalan had been wise enough to rent an expensive, though rather inconspicuous Mercedes E-Class which would probably not earn them more attention that it had been unavoidable. “Get in, princess,” Gerard had chirped as he had loaded both of their suitcases into the trunk of the car and Leo had laughed, plopping down onto the passenger’s seat.

“Don’t let Cristiano hear that,” he had said with a snort when Gerard had sat down behind the steering wheel and had grinned at him. It had been clear that they had both been equally excited to be reunited with their boyfriends.

“What, after you called Ser Adonis in front of him? Seriously, Leo?”

They had shared a laugh as Gerard had reversed their rental car out of the underground car park and Leo had only then thought about checking his phone, rummaging through his bagpack in order to find it while making sure that the Tupperware box with the cookies he had baked the evening before would not fall down. His heart had somersaulted when his phone had vibrated immediately after he had turned off the flight mode.

 _Cristiano:_ [Text me when you land, bebê!]

 _Cristiano:_ [We can’t wait to see you either ❤️😘]

The second one of Cristiano’s messages had been followed by a photo that the Portuguese had taken of himself in the mirror. Cristiano had been smiling while he had rested Junior on his hip and the boy had shown a toothy smile as well, holding his favorite teddy securely in his arms and Leo had caught himself smiling at the screen of his phone. He had not noticed how Gerard had stopped at a red light and had leaned over in his seat to see whatever Leo had been smiling at. His initial reflex had been to turn his screen away, but he then had realised that it had been _Gerard_ and he had thus shown the picture to his friend instead.

“Cute,” had been all his friend had said. The smile that he had showed off to Leo had been more than enough. _He had been happy for him_. Leo had saved the photo and had, without much thinking, made it his new wallpaper in the same go before he had answered to Cristiano’s messages.

[We’re in the car now :-)]

The closer they had come to Madrid’s uptown, the more nervous he had become and by the time that Gerard had swiftly swerved the car onto the driveway, Leo had been certain that his heart had been racing itself close to the point of exhaustion. “I’ll call you later,” Gerard had called after him as he had got out of the passenger’s side.

Leo had nodded and had hurried to round the car in order to retrieve his suitcase out of the trunk, not waiting until Gerard had driven off before he had walked up to the house. His heart had soared when the front door had been opened before he had even reached it and his knees had turned undeniably weak at the sight of Cristiano, standing there and greeting him with a smile. “Hey,” Leo had breathed as he had come to stand in front of the opened door, simply looking at his boyfriend for a few long seconds as if he had not been sure how to approach him after two months of being apart. Considering that there could have been ruthless paparazzi hidden in close proximity, neither of them had initated a kiss, not even the simple hug that Leo had been dying to feel.

“Come in,” Cristiano had said, stepping aside and opening the door a bit wider to allow him to enter.

“Thank y-”

The door had been thrown close and Leo’s face had been cupped by a pair of gentle, albeit calloused hands, that had tilted his head back in order for his lips to be claimed by a kiss. The suddenness of it had caused Leo to let go of his suitcase and for it to fall to the floor with quite the din, though he had not paid it any mind when he had stumbled a few steps backwards from the sheer force of the kiss, barely managing to keep a hold of the Tupperware box. He had gasped into the kiss when Cristiano had splayed one hand in the small of his back in order to pull him flush against him while he had kissed him just like Leo had hoped he would, claiming his mouth as if he had been starving for it and leaving him breathless by the time Cristiano had ended it. “God I’m so happy that you’re here,” the Portuguese had said with a low voice, gazing down at him so lovingly that Leo had felt his throat closing up and he had leaned over to rest his cheek against Cristiano’s chest.

“I missed you,” he had given back just as quietly, allowing his eyes to stay closed when he had felt the arms around him tightening their hold.

“I missed you too, bebê. I missed you a lot.”

They had stayed close for a few more moments, until Leo had the heart to straighten and move out of Cristiano’s embrace. “I could’ve ruined the cookies,” he had said with a playfully scolding tone, his cheeks tinted pink as an aftermath of the kiss. He had raised the Tupperware box he had managed to keep a hold on during their greeting, “Give me a warning the next time. I worked hard on these.”

Cristiano had cocked one eyebrow, but his mouth had turned into a smile and he had wrapped an arm around Leo’s waist to pull him close and kiss his temple, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Paaai!”

“I was _just_ about to ask where the birthday boy is,” Leo had laughed, turning his head and raising onto the tips of his toes to place a kiss on Cristiano’s lips before he had writhed out of his boyfriend’s hold. The months that he had not seen the boy had, figuratively speaking, hit him right in the face when Junior had come running out of the living area, his legs no longer as unsteady and his curls bouncing. He had crouched down when the toddler had stopped to look at him with wide eyes. “Hey niño, do you remember me?” Junior had not answered to his question, but Leo had seen the boy coming closer after he had halfway turned around to get his suitcase. “I brought presents for you. Would you like to have them?”

“Pwesent?”

The toddler had squealed when he had pulled three wrapped-up presents out of his suitcase and Junior had run to him, practically leaping against him and Leo had laughed, had closed his suitcase again and had pressed a quick kiss into the boy’s curls before he had handed him the presents, “Happy birthday, niño.” Junior had directed a toothy smile up at him before he had plopped down onto the floor with a huff, tugging at the wrapping paper of the first present with eager and chubby hands.

“Bebê?”

“Hm?”

“I’ll bring your suitcase to the bedroom, okay? Can you watch him?”

“Sure.”

Leo had felt Cristiano’s fingers grazing over his back before he had heard him walking off. His attention had been diverted when Junior had let out a whine, failing to get a grip of the tape. “Oh niño, that’s no reason to be upset,” he had gently intoned, pulling off the tape. “There you go.” The toddler had giggled, clapping his hands once and Leo simply had to smile as well. He had already grown too fond of the boy. While Cristiano had told him at more than one occasion that his son already had enough toys, Leo had still gone and bought a few presents - all in the store at Camp Nou. Not to enrage his boyfriend, but because the prospect of Junior actually becoming a little Blaugrana had simply been too good. 

He had bought a puzzle, a few books, a small football and a children’s jersey and he had not even tried to keep himself from grinning when he had reached for the jersey once Junior had unwrapped it, having set it aside as the books had been of much more interest to the toddler. “Do you want to wear it, niño?” Junior had giggled and squealed, bouncing in his seated position while Leo had pulled his shirt - a plain blue one - over his head. “I’m sure that your Pai will love it,” he had said as he had gently guided the toddler’s arms through the short sleeves of the jersey. “Oh, how handsome you look!” 

They had both laughed, though Junior’s laughter had been triggered by Leo tickling his chubby sides for a few seconds. Unable to sit still any longer after he had been dressed, the boy had pushed himself back onto his feet and Leo had heard Cristiano descending the stairs just as Junior had stood up, “What are you two-”

Leo had raised from his crouching position as well, grinning from ear to ear at the utterly disbelieving look that had shown itself on Cristiano’s face. “What?”, he had asked with an overly sweet tone and as innocent as he only could have done it, throwing his head back to laugh when the only reaction from the Portuguese had come in form of a dark glance. “He loves it, I think.”

“Leo, I know damn well that you didn’t buy my son a _fuck-_ a _goddamn_ Blaugrana jersey! Junior, vem cá. I can’t have you wearing that.”

The Portuguese had been about to set out for his son, but Junior had turned and had run back to the living room, his childish giggling resounding through to them. Leo had folded the shirt Junior had been wearing before and had stepped closer to Cristiano, wrapping his arms around his lean waist. “He _likes_ it,” he had purred, still grinning. “Your son’s becoming one of us, Cristiano, I can feel it. _Face it_.”

Cristiano had merely cocked his notorious eyebrow again, though it had been obvious that he had tried not to smile, “You’re lucky that I love you. I would’ve kicked you out of my house otherwise.”

“I know.” Leo had continued to look up at the older man until Cristiano had melted and given in, had rolled his eyes and had kissed him once more.

“Pirralho.” Cristiano had moved his hand down the slight curve of Leo’s back with almost feathery lightness, “My mãe had to leave just before you came, bebê. Which _sucks_ , because I wanted you two to finally meet each other.”

Leo’s smile had faltered before he could have prevented it, “You... want me to meet your mother?”

“Don’t act so surprised.” Cristiano’s eyes had searched his face for a long moment and he had pulled him closer before he had spoken again, “Bebê, you’re mine. Why wouldn’t I want my mãe to meet the man that I love?”

“Oh,” Leo had muttered, well aware of the blush that had spread out over his cheeks.

“Yes _oh_ ,” Cristiano had snorted, bringing up a hand to cup it against Leo’s face. “I can’t believe how little you’re thinking of yourself sometimes, Leo.”

“Sorry...”

“Don’t be.” Leo had been kissed onto his forehead, “I guess that I just have to teach you to stop doing it.”

He certainly would have liked to stay wrapped up in Cristiano’s arms for a while longer, just as it had been undoubted that Cristiano had not been all that eager to let go of him either, but they had both known that then had not been the time for it. “When will they come?”, Leo had asked, nestling against the taller man’s chest.

“Two.” Cristiano had groaned quietly and had buried his face in Leo’s hair to press a kiss into it, “I’d rather be alone with you, bebé,” pulling him impossibly closer. “It’s been far too long. Two months, foi um inferno ficar sem você.”

“But it’s your son’s birthday...” Leo had pulled back to grin up at Cristiano, “it’s not a fair thing to say on _your son’s birthday_ ,” and had laughed into the quick kiss that his lips had been claimed in.

“Come on, let’s get going.” They had parted and when Leo had bend down to pick the box of cookies up from where he had set it aside onto the floor, his backside had been smacked once as if he had been a bratty child in need of reproof and he had whirled around with a high-pitched squeak, blushing when Cristiano had guffawed. “What?”, the Portuguese had asked, slowly raising one of his eyebrows. “You’re buying my son all this Blaugrana stuff.” He had pulled a grimace as he himself had crouched down to collect the presents that Junior had casted aside, though Leo had been very much able to see that the corners of Cristiano’s mouth had twitched with the harbinger of the smile that he had barely kept down.

“He likes them,” Leo had chirped. “I’ll continue buying them for him, Cristiano, y no lo siento.” 

The older man had rolled his eyes before he had begun to take off for the living room and Leo had followed him without having been asked to do so. He had found his smile growing when he had seen the decorations that had been put up on the celebration of Junior’s second birthday. A large gold-coloured abd 2-shaped balloon had floated in the middle of the room, accompanied by what had to be at least two dozen regular-sized balloons in every colour of the rainbow. Paper streamers had dangled from the curtain rods, the picture frames that had hung on the walls and even the lamps had been decorated. A large letter garland, saying _Happy birthday, Junior!_ had been put over the large window under which the gift table had stood. The patio door had been opened, allowing a sight of the table that had already been perfectly set. The entire set up had seemed familiar rather than the extravagance that Leo had expected, and he had not needed to ask in order to know that Cristiano had done it all with only his mother’s help. _And for the press to have the audacity to call him a bad father..._

“Do you like it?”

Cristiano’s question had interrupted Leo in his thinking and he had blinked hard, turning around to watch how Cristiano had placed the presents he had bought for Junior onto the already packed gift table. “Yeah,” he had said after having cleared his throat, “it’s very fitting.”

Something soft had flickered behind Cristiano’s eyes as he had looked at Leo from over his shoulder. “Do you know how much I appreciate it?”, he had said, his voice just as soft as his eyes had been and Leo’s heart had soared. “That you want to be around Junior as well. That you’re thinking of him, too.” Cristiano had continued to look at him, though had not moved closer to Leo, whose cheeks had been decidedly pink. “I know that it’s not a matter of course, bebê. I appreciate you a lot for that.”

He had remembered what Cristiano had told him a while ago, _“Irina... she wasn’t interested in him at all. She never wanted to feed him or do anything with him. It was always me who got up during the nights. I don’t even know if she held him once, now that I’m thinking about it... Yeah, it was very hard to watch.”_ , and he had known that Cristiano’s confession had revealed much more than simple appreciation towards him. “He’s a cute kid, Cristiano. I like spending time with the both of you.”

They had smiled at each other from across the room and Leo had only managed to avert his gaze when a pair of tiny hands had tugged at his trousers, “Da!”

He had laughed and had looked down at the two-year-old, “What is it, niño?”

“Up!” The toddler had made his intention clear by reaching up with grabby hands, “Up!”

Shaking his head, Leo had come after the command and had wrapped his free arm around the toddler to hoist him up and settle him on his hip. “Happy now?” Junior had sucked on his pacifier and Leo had felt his chest tightening when the toddler had kept his eyes fixed onto his face and had leaned over to rest his chubby cheek on Leo’s shoulder, causing Leo to close his other arm around him out of instinct. He had, like always, not noticed that Cristiano had taken a picture of them. “Cris?”

“Yes, bebê?”

Leo had looked up just in time to see the Portuguese walking over to them and he had held out the Tupperware box as much as he would have done it without having to remove his arm from around Junior, “Could you...?”

“Of course.” Cristiano had taken the box from him and had cocked his head into the direction of the kitchen in a silent question and the both of them had, after Leo had nodded, set out for it.

Leo had bounced Junior when he had walked, replying to the boy’s happy albeit incoherent babbling by humming every now and then. He had been unable to not kiss toddler’s head of dark curls, laughing a “Eres tan lindo, niño!”. Once they had reached the open kitchen area, he had stood by as Cristiano had set the cookies down onto the countertop in order to search the cabinets for a fitting plate. “I hope that you’ll like them as much as I know that Junior will,” Leo had chirped, grinning at the look he had received from his boyfriend and his grin had only widerend when he had watched how Cristiano had opened the box - only to throw his head back in laughter.

“Come here, bebê,” the Portuguese had laughed and had wrapped his arm around the shorter man’s waist to pull him close, causing Leo’s eyes to flutter close when he had peppered his mouth with quick and light kisses. “Você é tão ridículo às vezes, eu não acredito!” Leo’s face had been flushed by the time that he had let go of again. Cristiano had carefully arranged the cookies on the platter. “How did you even manage to make that?”, he had asked, shaking his head as he had taken a closer look at the blue and red checked pattern of the frosting.

“It’s not that hard, actually.”

“Veja o que Leo fez para você, Junior. Você quer um?”

The toddler had instantly shifted in Leo’s arms, wriggling in order to reach the J-shaped cookie that his father had held out for him and he had carelessy thrown his pacifier away as he had grabbed the cookie, putting it into his mouth instead. Leo had laughed softly when Cristiano had groaned in annoyance and had bend down to pick the discarded pacifier up from the ground, giving it a quick rinse before setting it aside to dry. Leo had bounced Junior once, “Do they taste good, hm?” Junior had made a humming sound around his mouthfull of cookie and Leo had chortled, kissing the toddler’s chubby cheek. “I knew it!” He had winked at Cristiano, “Is there something that I can help you with?”, and had put the boy down, who, considering that he had still had his cookie, had not made a fuss about it.

“My mãe and I made the wraps, grilled the chicken and the vegetarian schnitzel,” Cristiano had said, opening the double-winged fridge, “so we still have to cut all of the vegetables for the wraps and the salad, make the dips and the drinks.”

Leo had nodded, “Okay.”

“The knives and cutting boards are in the drawer beside the stove, bebê.”

Nodding again, he had moved to get two cutting boards and two knives out of said drawer and had placed them on the counter before he had taken the first handful of vegetables that Cristiano had taken out of the fridge and had put them into the sink to rinse them with cold water. He had nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of hands had suddenly come to rest on his waist and Cristiano had nuzzled his face into the curve where his neck had met with his shoulder, kissing the soft skin he had found there. Leo had gasped and had needed to grasp at the counter for leverage when Cristiano had squeezed his waist, grazing his teeth over the spot he had just kissed. “Cris...”

“You’re right,” the older man had muttered in respone to Leo’s gently scolding tone, “now’s not the time but I’ve been without you for so long...”, and had smiled against Leo’s neck when the younger man’s breath had hitched. “I love you, bebê. Tem sido tão difícil sem você.”

“I love you too.”

Cristiano had kissed his neck once more before he had retreated, taking one of the peppers that Leo had already rinsed in the process. The two of them had worked in silence, with Leo having finished cleaning the vegetables before he had begun to cut them the way that Cristiano had told him to. He had just begun to cut a cucumber into thin slices when he had felt a tugging at his trousers for the second time that day. Junior held onto the fabric with both of his chubby hands, looking up at Leo with wide and imploring eyes while his lower lip had been pushed out in a perfect pout, “Da?”

“Cristiano?”

“Hm?”

“Is he allowed to have another cookie?”

Cristiano had snorted and had shot him a rather disbelieving look, “He’s a _child_ , bebê. Of course he’s allowed to have cookies on his birthday. I’m not planning to force my entire diet onto my son, you know.”

Leo had smiled, a tad bit embarrassed, and had dropped a hand to stoke Junior’s curls, “Come, niño.” The boy had, however, refused to let go of his leg and so he had needed to drag him along as he had moved over to the kitchen island, where he had put the plate before he and Cristiano had begun to work. It had earned him a snort from his boyfriend, which Leo had decided to ignore. “There you go, niño,” he had said with a soft voice, offering another baked treat to the toddler. Junior had rewarded him with a wide, toothy smile and Leo had ruffled through his hair once more before he had returned to his cutting board.

The cucumbers, bell peppers, tomatoes, avocados and red onions had been cut within a few minutes and Leo had been washing the plucked salad and spinach when Cristiano had dried his hands with a dishcloth to retrieve a few bottles out of the fridge, placing them on the countertop. Leo had whistled through his teeth, “I thought that you don’t drink that much?”

“You know that I don’t drink at all,” Cristiano had snorted, “but try and tell Sergio and Sami that they’re only allowed to have a glass each.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You _better_ not.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Leo had said with a laugh, shaking his head as he rinsed the knife he had used.

Cristiano had next pulled a few bowls of cut-up fruit to light next. “Do you like Wine Spritzer? We usually drink it with oranges,” the Portuguese had vaguely gestured to the bowls, “but I know that you prefer raspberries...”

It may have seemed as a small gesture to others, but Leo had appreciated it all the more. “Yeah, I always order it with raspberries.” He had smiled when Cristiano had looked at him.

“Good.”

“Should I prepare the dips while you...?”

“That would be helpful bebê, thank you.”

Cristiano had told him which ones his mother had made and which one Leo could finish and the younger man had done as instructed while his boyfriend had filled some of the carafes with white wine, garnished them with the cut-up fruit and had filled others with club soda and Sprite Zero. He had put the finished dips into the fridge before he had crouched down in front of Junior, who had been quietly sitting on the kitchen floor, and had smiled once he had noticed how much more droopy the boy’s eyes had seemed then, compared to how they had been mere minutes earlier. Leo had brushed a curl away from the toddler’s forehead before he had picked him up and had settled him on his hip, “You’re tired, hm? Is it time for your nap?”

Cristiano had thrown a quick look at the clock, “Oh, it is. I’ll bring him to bed in a few minutes so that he’ll be awake when the guests come over.”

Leo had answered with a nod and had continued to move his fingers through Junior’s curls after the boy’s head had lolled onto his shoulders, trying not to think about how it would have been if he and Antonella would have gone after his desire to have children. “Don’t fall asleep on me, niño,” he had whispered into the toddler’s hair, smiling at the tired mewl he had gotten in response. “Your Pai will take you to bed and that will be a lot more comfortable.”

Cristiano had chuckled quietly and had put the carafes into the fridge, only then coming to stand in front of Leo. The Portuguese had leaned down to kiss Leo while he had lifted Junior into his arms. “Vamos, você precisa dormir para que possa ficar acordado quando o Tio Sergio chegar, okay? Just for an hour, querido.” He had smiled at Leo, who had answered with a nod, before he had carried his son off, running a soothing hand over the boy’s back while Junior’s eyes had dropped closed for the last time and leaving Leo behind. The younger man had not been bothered by it, of course, had instead continued to smile to himself as he had, on a whim, begun to clean up the dishes that had been found throughout the kitchen, rinsing them off and stacking them in the dishwasher. “Are you serious, bebê?”

Leo, who had just bend down to place the cutting boards in the racks, had suddenly found himself grabbed by the waist, turned around and pushed against the counter. He had blushed when he had been lifted onto it by the a pair of strong hands, “Cris-” His eyes had fluttered close when Cristiano had kissed him, deliberately slow, dragging out the movements of his lips and tongue in a way that had caused Leo’s heart to soar and he had wrapped his legs around his boyfriend’s waist, smiling against Cristiano’s lips as he had folded his hands in his neck.

They had parted, and Leo had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when Cristiano had breathed a laugh against his cheeks and had moved his hands until they had been splayed over the insides of Leo’s thighs, squeezing the flesh once. “You really _do_ make a perfect housewife, bebê,” the Portuguese had whispered, grazing his lips over Leo’s smooth cheek to press a kiss onto the corner of his mouth, “especially whenever you bend over with that ass of yours.” Though he had snorted, Leo had allowed Cristiano to kiss him and when he had shuffled closer to the edge of the counter, he had felt the tale-telling strain of Cristiano’s erection through his trousers. Deciding to tease him just a bit, he had wriggled against it as much as he could have done it, grinning at the groan it had elicited from him, “ _Fuck_.”

“That _would’ve_ been the plan if you wouldn’t be expecting guests, Cristiano.” His boyfriend had actually whined against his lips, silencing Leo’s laughter with a kiss and bringing his arms up to wrap them around him. Leo had smiled down at Cristiano with a love-struck smile when he had pressed his face into Leo’s chest. He had languidly combed his hair through the Portuguese’s hair which, on a rare occasion, had not been styled to perfection, but had instead shown the curls that Junior had inherited from his father. “I prefer your hair like this,” he had whispered, so as if he had not been certain whether he had wanted it to be heard. “It doesn’t make you look like a...”

Cristiano’s head had shot up and he had smirked, “A handsome gentleman? The son-in-law that every mother dreams of?”

Barely managing to keep himself from laughing, Leo had pressed his lips together, causing Cristiano’s eyes to narrow. He had cleared his throat, “Well _I_ no longer think so but-” and had squealed when he had been grabbed and pulled forward until Cristiano had been able to cup his ass, squeezing the flesh.

“What did you and your little Blaugrana friends talk about, hm? How incredibly good-looking Cristiano Ronaldo is?”

Leo had snorted, “Replace _incredibly good-looking_ with _the epitome of an arrogant_ _fuckboy_ and you have it,” before he had full-on laughed at the look of indignation he had received and he had hurried to kiss Cristiano, gasping when he had been robbed of the control over the kiss.

“A _fuckboy?_ ” the other had growled, “When did being stylish become an equivalent to being a fuckboy? Vocês são todos malditos-”, and had cut himself of by claiming Leo’s mouth in a demanding kiss. It had been clear that Cristiano had not been honestly enraged, and so Leo had fully relaxed against him. He had felt his blush darkening when Cristiano had, after having pulled back, smirked, winked and squeezed his ass. “I fear that the great Lionel Messi fell in love with a fuckboy then. What a shame.”

“Oh no, poor me.”

“Poor you indeed,” the Portuguese had muttered, leaning down to kiss Leo once again, but the moment had been ruined when Leo’s phone had made its presence known, and he had set him back down onto his feet to allow him to answer the call.

“Yeah?”

“Ser’s leaving in ten minutes,” Gerard had whispered as if they had indeed been acting in a B-movie and Leo had laughed, missing how Cristiano had looked at him. 

They had decided that Leo would, quite simply, wait at the opposite end of the street as Gerard had been well familiar with the route Sergio had always taken to Cristiano’s house. “Gerard said that they’re leaving in a few minutes,” he had said when he had stowed his phone in the front pocket of his trousers, “so I guess that I...” Cristiano had nodded, had taken his hand and had walked him to the front door, quietly standing by as Leo had shouldered his rucksack. He had tried to not let the sudden feeling of uneasiness take over him, but his shoulders had dropped before he could have prevented it and he had swallowed quite hard when Cristiano had cupped his face and had tilted his head back to get a better look at him.

“I’m sorry,” the older man had whispered, stroking Leo’s cheeks, “I promise that it won’t be like this the next time.”

“I hope so.”

Cristano had kissed him before he had let go of him and had opened the door, “It’s a promise, bebê.”

Leo had felt more than just a bit awkward as he had made his way to the corner where he had agreed to meet with Gerard, hoping that there had not been any paparazzi that could possible catch him in that situation. He had not blamed Cristiano, or at least not as much as he could have done it and as much as, probably, any other person would have. Of course Leo had understood that Cristiano had wanted to find the right moment to reveal their relationship but considering that he had told Gerard and Neymar _months_ ago had been somewhat disheartening. Not enough for him to doubt Cristiano’s love, since it had been unquestionable, but more than Leo’s self-confidence had been able to withstand without cracking under the weight of it. It had been all that he had thought about as he had ambled down the street of Madrid’s uptown, hoping that it would not take Gerard too long to come and pick him up.

༻✦༺

It had not even been a minute after two when Cristiano had opened the door to allow his best friend to enter. Sergio had greeted him with a wide, lopsided grin and had set the basked he had brough with him down before he had pulled Cristiano into a bone-crushing hug, the two Blancos patting each other’s backs enthusiastically enough for it to resound throughout the entrance area. They had both been laughing by the time that their hug had ended.

“So, where’s my favourite godchild?” Sergio had said, cupping his hands over his mouth to call out, “Junior, ven al tío Sergio. Tengo regalos para ti!”

Cristiano had snorted, “He’s your only godchild, Ser. And I put him down for a nap, he wouldn’t manage to go through the afternoon otherwise.”

The Spaniard had clicked his tongue and had made a dismissive gesture with his hand, “Still my favourite godchild, Cris,” as he had bend down to pick the basket back up. “Where do you want me to put his gifts?”

Cristiano had cocked his head into the direction of the living room and had followed Sergio once he had taken off for it. He had worried his lower lips between his teeth for a second as he had thought on how to proceed in the rather unfortunate situation, “Where... did you leave Piqué? You told me that he’s be coming, too.”

Sergio had let out a humourless and quite harsh laugh, “Apparently Leo fucking _Messi_ is in Madrid? How? Anyway, Geri found out and decided to meet with him, telling me about it _just_ as we were about to leave.” The Portuguese had stood by and had watched how his friend had placed half a dozen of presents on the already overloaded table. “So he’ll come later.”

“Okay, won’t be a problem.”

Cristiano had feared that he, somehow, had managed to say something wrong when Sergio had growled. “The only problem here is that little _pulga_ ,” the Spaniard had snarled and he had to clench his jaw shut in order to not let anything slip. “Always around where he’s not supposed to be.” Cristiano had a plan on how he would disclose Leo’s and his relationship and would finally stop pretending but Sergio speaking about the younger man like that had been tough. Especially since he himself had, not all that long ago, spoken about him in the same way. “Geri and I already see each other literally once every two weeks or so and they’re _Blaugranas_ so why does he meet with that son of a _-_ ”

“Enough,” Cristiano had cut him off before he would have no longer been able to keep himself back and Sergio had given him a weird look, but had stopped ranting and had instead moved on to the kitchen.

“I made gazpacho,” he had explained as he had heaved the basked onto the kitchen island and had unpacked the bowls he had brought with him. “After my mamá’s recipes, of course. Tomato, cucumber, avocado and strawberry.”

Within twenty minutes, the few guests that Cristiano had invited had all arrived. He had wanted his son to be a small and, most importantly, private occasion with only his closest friends around. Sergio, James, Sami, Iker and Xabi had all been steated at the table on the terrace, chatting while he himself had retreated to the kitchen under the pretense of having to finish something. In truth, the Portuguese forward had stood leaned against the counter and had typed away at his phone. 

_Cristiano:_ [When are you coming back, bebê? I want you here 😕❤️]

It had not been a lie. He had missed him and if he would have been honest, he would have needed to confess that he would have been satisfied if Leo would have been the only guest of Junior’s party. With a sigh that had been a lot more weary than he had wanted it to be he had pushed himself off the counter and made his way to the terrace after his text had stayed unanswered, though he had only done so much as peak through the open patio door. “I’ll go and get Junior, could one of you open the door if L- _Piqué_ should ring?” 

His friends had answered with laughters and a not very unison “Yes sir” and Cristiano had snorted, shaking his head when he had walked off. 

As he had expected it, his son had been sitting in his crib, wide awake and playing with his teddy bear when he had opened the door, quietly so that he would not have woken Junior up if he still would have been asleep. “No longer tired, hm? Come here meu amor, let’s get you dressed.” His son had babbled as he had picked him up and had carried him to the changing table, laying him down on top of it. He had quickly changed his son’s diaper, had brushed his hair and had wiped his face. Making sure that Junior would not accidentally fall off, he had opened the top drawer of the changing table to get another shirt for the boy. Cristiano had shaken his head as he had looked at the folded jersey he had set aside before he had put Junior down for his nap, a smile tugging at his lips. If it would not have been too precious to be ruined with food stains, he would have put his son back into it. He had suddenly heard voices from below and since one of them had suspicously sounded like an enraged Sergio Ramos, he had hurried to dress his son.

༻✦༺

_“Are you serious, Ser? Calm the fuck down and let us in!”_

The times when Leo had been honestly scared of Sergio Ramos had long been over, of course, but he had to admit that the Spaniard had been pretty frightening when he would build himself up in front of him and had stared at him as if he had insulted his mother with his sheer presence. So if he had shrinked back when Ramos’ eyes had narrowed to little slits after the Spaniard had opened the door for Gerard and him, it had purely been out of reflex. He had been rather grateful when Gerard had moved to stand in front of him as if he had really needed to protection.

“What the fuck is he doing here?”

“Are you serious, Ser? Calm the fuck down and let us in! Ronaldo knows that he’s coming, don’t get your damn panties in a twist and stop acting like an asshole.” His boyfriend’s harsh words had seemed to get through to Sergio and he had swallowed before he had allowed them to enter, managing to not throw the door shut behind them. Leo had felt his heart soaring when he had finally seen Cristiano, who had descended down the stairs with Junior resting on his hip.

“Sergio.”

Said Spaniard had whirled around, “Do you know about this?”

Leo had been very much able to see that Cristiano had forced a smile down when he had nodded, “Yeah.”

Sergio had visibly deflated at that and he had kissed Gerard’s cheek undeniably apologetically before he had held his arms out to get his young godson into them, “There’s my favourite little boy! Wanna see what Uncle Sergio bought for you, hm?”

“Da!”

“Alright little man, let’s go.”

Leo had let out a breath he had not even been aware of having held in when Sergio had disappeared out of sight and he had found himself wrapped-up in an embrace not even a second later. “I’m sorry, bebê,” Cristiano had whispered, pressing a kiss into his hair, and Leo had closed his eyes as he had simply leaned against him. “You know how he gets.”

“I know.”

He had allowed his head to be tilted back and he had relaxed for good when he had been kissed, though pulling back as he had heard Gerard spluttering beside them. “Sorry, I just,” his best friend had tried to hide his grin by pressing his lips together, “you two kissing isn’t something that I ever thought I’d get to see.”

“Whatever Piqué,” Cristiano had grumbled, obviously quite displeased by the show Sergio had felt the need to pull off, and he had draped an arm over Leo’s shoulder to pull him close. “I’m really sorry about this, bebê.”

“It’s okay, Cris.”

“No it’s not.”

Gerard had gotten whatever hint Cristiano had given him and had walked off as well, leaving Leo alone with him. “Maybe it’s better like this,” Leo had whispered, feeling his chest clenching quite painfully at his own words and if he would have looked up at Cristiano, he would have seen the fear that had flashed over his face.

“Bebê, what are you saying?” the Portuguese had breathed, bringing his hands to Leo’s waist as if to prevent him from walking away.

“Maybe it’s better if we... don’t tell them about us. I mean-”

“Because of him? Because of _Sergio?_ Leo, I’d rather end the friendship with him before I’d make you go through this over and over again. I _love_ you.” Leo had swallowed, had nodded and had felt his cheeks gaining color when the corners of his mouth had been kissed. “I can’t wait to see his face when he sees us together...”

“Thank God I can run fast, huh? At least he won’t catch me if he loses his head over it,” he had laughed, leaning his cheek into Cristiano’s palm and allowing his hand to be taken as Cristiano had lead him to the terrace.

Meeting the other guests had not even been half as awkward as his encounter with Sergio had been. James had greeted him with a hug, Sami and him had agreed on the first-name-basis and since he had never really had a problem with Iker and Xabi, no more hard words had been exchanged before he had sat down in the free chair between Gerard and James and had accepted the water that the Colombian had offered to him. They had talked for while and had, with much laughter, passed Junior along so that every one had been able to say their congratulations and give their presents.

The two-year-old had remained rather stiff on most of the laps he had landed on however, had even whimpered as he had tried to squirm out of Gerard’s lap who had merely laughed and had stated that he had never been good with children anyway. “Come here, niño,” Leo had muttered and had lifted Junior into his arms, realising that it had not been that good of an idea when the toddler had cooed and had nestled against his chest.

“Now look at that,” Sergio had said and while his voice had not been soft, it had not longer been snarling. “Messi’s his favourite.”

Neither Leo nor Cristiano had managed to laugh like the others had done it, Leo because his face had been aflame and Cristiano because he had been biting down on the insides his cheeks. He had leaned over for James to take Junior, but the boy had whined and had pressed closer against Leo’s chest. “Okay niño, okay.” Well aware that everyone had been looking at him, he had not kissed the top of the toddler’s head like he would have wanted to do and he had been incredibly thankful when Cristiano had clapped his hands and had stood.

“Lunch’s already done so if you’re hungry...” Footballers as they had been, they had immediately stated that they had been, and Cristiano had disappeared into the house with Sami and James having offered to help.

“What are you even doing in Madrid?” Sergio had asked as soon as the trio had been gone and Leo had very well heard the hint of anger in the Spaniard’s voice, which, in itself, had been anything but unexpected.

“I-I,” he had cleared his throat, “wanted to visit the new exhibition. In the Prado, I mean.” 

Sergio’s eyebrows had raised to his hairline and Leo had cursed himself for his nervous stuttering. “Ah,” had been all the other had answered with.

Gerard had come, as all so often, to Leo’s help. “I picked him up afterwards,” he had said, his tone leaving no room for doubt and he had shot a look at his quite problematic boyfriend, who had shrinked a bit in his chair and had sipped at his water without saying another word. Cristiano, James and Sami had moved in and out of the house a couple of times, bringing the wraps and everthing that they would need to make them as well as Sergio’s gazpachos and the cooled drinks.

Since Cristiano had neither placed Junior’s high chair at the table nor had made an initiative that he would take Junior from him, Leo had kept the toddler in his lap and had bounced him softly as he had begun to feet him tiny pieces of chicken breast and spoonfuls of tomato gazpacho while Gerard and the Blancos had loaded their plates for themselves. He never could have eaten if the toddler would have stayed hungry, not to mention that he had enjoyed interacting with Junior. The boy had giggled and had grabbed at his wrist when he had cut a bit more of the chicken. “Wait a moment, niño,” Leo had laughed. “Wait or I’ll spill it all over you! You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” the boy had continued to giggle, “yes yes!”

“Do you not want to eat anything, Leo?”

Leo had looked up, a bit surprised by the question, and he had known that his cheeks had been tinted a bright pink when he had realised that it had been Cristiano who had asked him. “I-I will, but he’s hungry so I’ll... feed him first,” he had retorted and had, without thinking about it, kissed Junior’s chubby cheek as he had offered another piece of chicken to him. “You like that, hm?”

Something had flickered behind Cristiano’s eyes and he had not taken his gaze off Leo as he had stood once again, reaching for the carafe with the raspberry-garnished wine, “Sprite or soda?”

“Sprite, please,” Leo had answered with a voice barely above a whisper. He had watched how his glass had been filled with a mixture of ice-cold white wine and Sprite and he had been about to thank Cristiano when his face had been cupped and a pair of lips had landed on his. Leo’s heart had skipped a beat, the more so since it had not been a peck but a full-on kiss that had left him breathless by the time he had been let go of again.

“I want you to eat something too, bebê,” Cristiano had said rather unceremoniously, showing one of his dollar smile and winking at Leo before he had returned to his place.

The only one who had still been eating had been Junior, the toddler had happily chewed away while clapping his small hands together. Leo had been hyperaware of the fact that everyone had been staring at him. Sergio had been the first to speak. “ _What_ ,” he had drawled out, “the _actual fuck_ was that!” The shock that had hovered over the table had seemed to have dissolved after than and Leo had flinched from the volume that the different interjections had reached.

“Cris-”

“What?”

“Are you serious?”

“How long have you-”

“You and _Messi?_ I mean-”

“Oh mein Gott, what the fuck. Obwohl... ihr passt eigentlich schon ganz gut zusammen.”

Leo had managed to let it all wash over him but when Sergio had glared daggers at him and had mouthed a very obvious “Fuck you” at him, something inside of him had snapped. He had downright forced Junior into Gerard’s arms and had jumped up from his chair, trying not to listen to the toddler’s whine as he had bolted into the house, only wiping at his eyes once he had been out of sight. He had not heard how Cristiano had called after him, or how Gerard had yelled at his boyfriend in Catalan, and had instead stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and plopping down onto the closed toilet lid with a sob. Leo had not even known as for why he had last it like that, and he had been utterly embarrassed to having been reduced into tears in front of the Blancos. “A bad idea,” he had muttered to himself as he had wiped at his face, blinking through his tears.

“Leo?” He had frozen when he had heard Cristiano and he had jumped to his feet at the knock at the door, hurrying to get to the basin to wash his face. “Leo? Bebê, please open the door.”

“One-One moment.”

“Bebê...” Cristiano had opened the door as soon as Leo had turned the key and he had motioned to step back, but the Portuguese had caughed him by the wrist and had pulled him into an embrace. Overwhelmed as he had been, Leo had begun to cry again, his hands clutching at the back of Cristiano’s shirt. “I’m sorry,” the older man had whispered, “I didn’t think that... Bebê I’m so sorry, I never wanted this to happen.” 

Leo had stayed in the embrace for what could have been a couple of minutes and Cristiano had clicked his tonge when Leo, after having pulled back, had wiped at his face. Without asking, Cristiano had soaked one of the disposable washcloth that he had usually used for his son, had gently taken Leo by the chin and had cleaned his face, kissing him once he had been done. “Come.” In a way, Leo had wanted to oppose when Cristiano had taken his hand and had lead him out of the bathroom but he had eventually complied without any contradiction. “I love you, Leo. It doesn’t matter what any of them think, okay? É você quem eu quero na minha vida.”

He had not answered, had merely squeezed Cristiano’s hand as they had stepped back out onto the terrace and had allowed Cristiano to sit down and pull him into his lap. If he would have asked, his boyfriend probably would not have been all that happy to _not_ have him on his lap. Being enclosed by the pair of strong arms had felt incredibly good. It had been quite the awkward scene, since no one had actually said anything. The silence had been only broken when Junior had mewled and Gerard had to pass the toddler over into Leo’s arms. Gerard had seemed no less angry than Cristiano had been. “Are you okay?”, the Catalan had asked, offering him a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Leo had said with a nod, shifting a bit on Cristiano’s lap so that he could position Junior properly.

“I think that I’m speaking for all of us,” Iker had suddenly begun, “when I say that I want to apologize. Leo, we didn’t mean to to upset you and Cris... we didn’t want to disrespect you and your relationship.” Cristiano’s arms had tightened around him, so as if the Portugese had wanted him to decide whether he had been ready to accept the apology or not.

Unable to speak, he had nodded.

“Leo?” Sergio had _looked_ remorseful and Leo had wondered just what it had been that Gerard had told him, “I’m sorry, too.”

“I accept your apology.”

“Thank you.”

Cristiano had pulled Leo a bit closer to kiss his cheek, “You still need to each something, bebê,” before he had removed his arms from around him and had allowed him to stand and nodding when Leo had asked him whether he could keep Junior. “He doesn’t look like he wants to be somewhere else.”

Once Leo had sat down in his chair, the situation had lost its awkwardness and the others had resumed eating as well. “So will you tell us?” James had asked, a kind smile showing on his face. “About you two I mean. For how long have you been together?”

“Five months,” Cristiano had answered and James had nearly choked on his drink. “January twelfth. Right, bebê?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It got a bit out of hand but I'm just enjoying this story _so much_ during quarantine ^^


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the big amount of kudos & comments I've received! They really do make my day! I struggled a bit with this chapter, mostly because quarantine's beginning to take its toll on me, but I hope that someone's going to enjoy it anyway :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Leo’s 28th birthday, 24. June 2015.** _

In hindsight, Leo really should have realised that there had been something going on behind his back when both Neymar and Gerard had “been unable” to come after the invitation that he had spoken out. 

Since his birthday had fallen onto a Sunday that year, he had wanted to invite his best friends over for a Mimosa lunch, like he had done it a couple of times before, but his plans had gone to waste the day before his birthday. Neither Neymar nor Gerard had actually disclosed as for why they would not manage to visit him, though both had promised, in very heartfelt voice messages, that they would make up for it the next weekend. Leo had tried not to be bitter about it. He had known that his friends would not have ditched him on his birthday if it would not have been inevitable, but he had felt quite the harsh twinge when he had realised that he would be spending the day on his own because just as Neymar and Gerard, Cristiano had stated that he would not manage to visit him either.

Considering that he had seen his boyfriend a week ago, Leo had not been as disappointed or mad as he could have been and just like he had done it during the months that life had done them both so badly, he had not blamed the Portuguese for it. “I’m so, so sorry,” Cristiano had told him on the phone and despite the truly disappointing news, Leo had found himself smiling at the whining tone that Cristiano’s voice had gained in the process. “I promise that I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. Por favor, não fique bravo comigo, bebê. Please don’t be mad...”

“I’m not mad,” he had reassured him and in truth, he had not been mad. Anything else would have been unfair. What would it have changed if he would have gotten mad and would have given a cold shoulder to Cristiano, thus putting an unnecessary strain onto their relationship? So Leo had put on a brave face instead, had smiled and had stated that it would be okay, moving on to plan the day for himself instead. He would sleep in, cook himself an extensive breakfast, catch up on a few series and end the day in his home gym, doing sets of squats until his legs would threaten to give out from underneath him. Sure, it had not been the birthday he had expected he would be celebrating but it had not been the worst either.

When he had woken up at 10:35 AM on his birthday, his phone had already been blown up by what could have been a thousand different notifications and one look at his Instagram had been enough to make him glad that he had muted it the evening before. Closing the app with a disbelieving shake of his head, he had switched to WhatsApp instead. Cristiano’s chat had been amongst the first dozen or so and Leo had skipped right over them to open Cristiano’s first. He had rolled over onto his stomach to hide his love-struck smile in his pillow when he had noticed that his boyfriend had send him not only one, but a couple of messages over the course of the night and the morning. It may have been a bit ridiculous, but Leo had appreciated it a lot. He never had anything like that before he had come together with the Portuguese, after all. The first few of Cristiano’s messages had been delivered at midnight sharp.

 _Cristiano:_ [Happy birthday bebê! 🥳]

 _Cristiano:_ [I know that you’re already asleep so I won’t call you right now, but I wish you a great day and I hope that you’re not too mad that I can’t be there with you today...]

 _Cristiano:_ [Eu the amo, desejo-lhe um felix aniversário bebê! E já que sei que você não vai traduzir isso: até mais tarde 😉]

The late-night birthday wishes had been followed by a photo that Cristiano had send him about two hours ago. The Portuguese had been lying on his bed and had grinned into the camera while Junior had been sprawled over his chest, holding his Barça teddy bear and showing off his his teeth in a grin as well, as if he had mimicked his father.

 _Cristiano:_ [We hope that you’re having a great day! We miss you, Leo ❤️😘]

Leo’s heart had soared more than he probably would have liked to admit, for it had been the first time that he had wondered, hoped whether Cristiano had allowed him to gain more than just a boyfriend. He had pressed his lips together when he had typed a hurried reply.

[Thank you! 🥰 Can I call you?]

The checkmark had turned blue within a few seconds but instead of with an answering text, Leo’s phone had vibrated with an incoming FaceTime call. He had accepted it just as fast and had been greeted by one of Cristiano’s million dollar smiles, “Look at that, the birthday boy’s finally awake.”

The older man’s smile had been utterly blinding and Leo had hummed, had rolled over and had moved a hand through his hair. “Well, since no one’s coming around today...” He had been able to make out the sound of Junior babbling somewhere in the background and oh, how he had wished that he would have been able to be with the both of him instead.

“I’m really sorry.” Cristiano’s low voice had interrupted him in his thinking, “I’ll make it up to you, please don’t be-”

“It’s okay, I understand,” Leo had cut him off, underlining his words with a smile and a dismissive gesture of his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Uh... I’m making a few snacks. For Junior.” Cristiano had put the phone down onto the counter, propping it up against something, and Leo had been sure that he had seen a faint blush rising into Cristiano’s tanned cheeks. The Portuguese had packed halved grapes and toddler-appropriate pieces of apple and banana into one compartment of a lunch box before he had filled the other with small, animal-shaped shortbread cookies.

Leo had needed to snort at the fact of the lunch box being one with a Madrid-related design. “You’re really forcing it onto him, aren’t you?”, he had laughed, spluttering at the look he had received in return.

“Of course I am. He’s _my_ son. Do you think that I’ll allow you to try and turn him into one of _your_ kind?” Cristiano had cocked an eyebrow at him, “Forget it, bebê. You won’t manage to turn him into a Blaugrana.”

Leo’s smile had shifted into a grin, “We’ll see about that,” and he had sat up, muffling his yarn behind his hand. “It would be funny though, wouldn’t it?”

“To have the enemy in my house?”

“Junior and I could outdo you whenever we’re together.”

Cristiano had snorted, though there had been an undeniable smile tugging at his lips when he had looked at Leo. “Isso seria tudo que eu poderia pedir.” Yawning yet again, Leo had swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “Do you have anything planned for today, bebê?”

“Not much. I’ll go and make breakfast, watch Netflix and work out later. Nothing special.”

The older man had hummed as he had closed the lunch box and had put it, together with Junior’s flask, into a small rucksack. “I still hope that you have fun. Leo, I have to hurry now. Junior’s not yet dressed and I have to be at the a-” Cristiano had cleared his throat, “I have to leave in twenty minutes.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll call you later. I promise.”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

“I love you, bebê.”

“I love you too.”

Leo had not been able to help himself after the call had ended, he simply had needed to open the photo that Cristiano had send him once more, smiling at his screen as he had done so. He had really loved them both more than he had ever thought he would. He had replied to as many messages as he only could have as he had made his way to the kitchen, sending voice messages to his closest friends and answering others, including Antonella, with texts. It had soon become a bit overwhelming, so he had merely send a voice message to his mother before he had set his phone aside and had begun to prepare his breakfast.

Deciding to treat himself, he had chosen to make himself baked raspberry and chocolate French toast - looking away when he had sprinkled a generous amount of chocolate chips into the backing pan - and had sipped on a Latte Macchiato as he had waited for it to finish baking. Mornings, or rather forenoons, like these had always been rare and Leo had been wise enough to appreciate and cherish them whenever he could. He had retreated to the living room, carrying a plate stacked with a generous serving of the French toast in one and a Latte Macchiato in the other hand, humming to himself as he had plopped down onto the couch, had put his feet up onto the coffee table and had reached for the remote. Leo had ended up spending a good few hours catching up on the newest episodes of a couple different series, only getting up to make himself another coffee, to put the cooled-down baked treat into the fridge so that it would not turn bad and to add a quick update to his Instagram story, thanking everyone who had send him birthday wishes.

By the time that Leo had turned off the TV and had heaved himself up from the couch to clean the kitchen, it had well been half past two and he had briefly wondered whether he would manage to get the day over with not as slow as he had feared he would. He had filled and had turned the dishwasher on, had cleaned the countertop, had rinsed the baking utensils and had tried to not think about Cristiano’s comment of him being _a perfect housewife_ when he had done so. It had all been thanks to his mum that he had been so meticulous about his house work, anyway. 

Once his work in the kitchen had been done, he had skipped up the stairs to his bedroom and had dressed into his workout attire, grinning to himself as he had picked a pair of old training shorts, which had been a bit too short and definitely too tight for him to wear them around anyone as they had covered his backside like a second skin. He had just been about to step onto his treadmill to start his warm-up when his phone had alarmed him that there had been someone at his front door. Leo had turned the annoying notification sound off and had groaned, only partly from annoyance, and had hurried out of his small home gym and down the stairs. His heart had tumbled down into the pit of his stomach when he had raised onto the tips of his toes to peek through the peephole and he had, momentarily, been robbed of his breath. The doorbell bad been rung once more, and Leo had nearly torn the door open in response. “Happy birthday, bebê.” 

Cristiano had the _audacity_ to grin at him as he had entered the house while Leo’s vision had been blurred by tears. The Portuguese had balanced Junior on his hip and had held a bouquet of lavender roses in his free hand and Leo had been so overwhelmed that he had not actually managed to react at first when Cristiano had set the toddler down, had kicked the door shut and had pulled him into a kiss.

Leo had only snapped back into the there and then once he had felt the first hint of Cristiano’s tongue against his lips and he had opened up for the kiss with a gasp, had wrapped his arms around the taller man’s so suddenly that Cristiano had let out a grunt of surprise and had stumbled a few steps forwards. The other had let out a husky laugh and had taken it onto himself to deepen the kiss. Leo’s voice had been quivering once he had gotten the chance to speak, “What-What are you doing here?”

“Well I wanted to surprise you,” Cristiano had laughed, leaning down to place a kiss onto the corner of his mouth, “and judging by the look on your face I’d say that I succeeded, hm?” Leo had shaken his head and had wiped at the few tears that had escaped his eyes. “Happy birthday, bebê.”

He had sniffled, had clicked his tongue but had eventually accepted the bouquet which Cristiano had held out for him. “Púdrete,” Leo had muttered without any real bite behind it and the Portuguese had merely laughed as he had stole another kiss from him, dragging it out before he had moved to the closed entrance door.

“I left my bags outside.”

Leo had nodded, had wiped at his face one last time and had set the bouquet aside onto the nearby side table to crouch down and greet Junior, who had been looking up at him with doe-like eyes. “Hello niño,” he had whispered, opening his arms and feeling another swell of tears threatening to rise into his eyes when the toddler had bounced into the embrace and had wrapped his short arms around Leo’s neck. “I missed you, do you know that?”, he had whispered into the boy’s soft curls as he had moved to hoist him up and had watched how Cristiano had brought his Chanel trolley, his travel bag and a surprising amount of brown paper bags in. Leo’s attention had only been averted when Junior had shifted in his arms, “What is it, niño?”

The toddler had grabbed his pacified, had pulled it out of his mouth with a _plop_ and had held it out, “Da.”

Leo had laughed and had offered his hand, “Do you want me to take it?”

“Yes.”

The pacifier had been placed in his palm rather unceremoniously and Leo had kissed one of Junior’s chubby cheeks, eliciting a giggle from the boy, before he had set the pacifier aside as well. Cristiano had closed the door once more and had come to stand beside Leo, putting an arm around his waist to pull him closer, causing the blush on Leo’s face to darken a bit. “How long will you two stay?”

“I managed to get tomorrow off,” Cristiano had said with a grin. “Our flight back isn’t until eight tomorrow evening, bebê.” Leo’s heart had somersaulted all over again, from the prospect of getting to spend more than a day with Cristiano as well as the kiss that was pressed against his temple. “Where should I...” Cristiano had gestured to his bags and Leo had cleared his throat, putting Junior down.

“Oh, right. My bedroom’s upstairs.”

He had grown rather self-conscious of his choice of trousers when he had walked up the stairs in front of Cristiano and by the time that he had come to stand on the swell of his bedroom’s door, his face had been burning with a bright shade of pink. Leo had been about to open his mouth and state that there had been a guest room next door, in which Junior could sleep, when Cristiano had more or less thrown his bags down and had grabbed him for the second time. The Portuguese had splayed one had over the curve of Leo’s ass to pull him flush against him with a growl, squeezing the flesh hard enough to make Leo gasp and arch against him. “Those pants should be illegal,” Cristiano had _growled_ against his mouth, nibbling at his bottom lip once. “Do you wear them during training?”

“N-No,” Leo had breathed, a bit surprised by the rough edge that his boyfriend’s voice had gained. His eyes had fluttered close when he had felt a pair of lips kissing down the side of his neck and Cristiano had pulled him evern closer against him, pushing a thigh between his legs while squeezing his ass at the same time. Leo had felt himself growing hard in his already too-tight trousers.

“You better not,” Cristiano had muttered, gently sucking on the spot he had just kisses, “if anyone else would see you in them... Você é meu, só meu, e se necessário eu te faria meu na frente de todos.”

“Cris-” He had been cut off with a kiss that had send his mind reeling, but he had only allowed it to longer for a few seconds before he had pulled back, snorting at the sound of protest it had earned him. “Junior’s alone downstairs.”

It had not happened all that often that Cristiano had _visibly_ blushed, but there had been a faint shade of pink on his cheeks when he had let go of Leo. “You’re right,” the Portuguese had said after he had cleared his throat and Leo had brought up a hand to trace the sharp line of his jaw for just a second. They had smiled at each other.

“I’ll look after him.”

“Thank you, bebê.” Cristiano’s eyes had roamed over his face, “I’ll just unpack a few things, okay?”

“Sure, that’s alright.” Leo had pointed to his right, “I have a guest room, you can put Junior’s things there if you want to,” and had only turned when Cristiano had nodded. He had hurried down the stairs, willing his erection down as much as he could have done it. It had seemed as if he had decided to come back at just the right time: Junior’s whining had reached him before he had reached the foot of the stairs and he had felt his heart skipping a beat when he had seen how the boy had tried to climb up the side table in order to reach his pacifier. Leo’s house had not been exactly childproof.

“Junior, no!” he had called out, unintentionally frightening the toddler who had flinched, had whirled around and had plopped down onto his butt with a sob. “Oh niño, please don’t cry.” Leo’s voice had been barely above a whisper as he had picked the toddler up and had guided Junior’s head to his chest, rocking him gently, “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you could’ve gotten hurt.”

Cristiano’s son had continued to grizzle for a few moments longer, though had eventually calmed down when Leo had not stopped to rock him. “Don’t try to climb onto it again, okay? You really could’ve hurt yourself if the table would’ve fallen over.” He had kissed the top of Junior’s head and had blindly reached for the pacifier, “There you go, niño.” The toddler had leaned over to take it into his mouth and had, apparently satisfied, leaned back against Leo’s chest. “Come on, you can help me to pick a vase, okay?” he had continued to talk to him as he had walked to the kitchen, holding the bouquet of roses in his free hand and kissing Junior’s cheek as soon as he had set him down onto the counter. The boy’s tears had since dried and he had looked up at Leo with wide eyes, eyes with which Leo had known Junior could have made him do everything with. 

He had gently guided Junior’s arms through the shoulder straps of his small rucksack. Juding by its light weight, it had probably contained nothing but a stuffed animal. Leo had eyed the rucksack as well as the white jersey that the two-year-old had been wearing and had clicked his tongue, giving a disagreeing shake of his head. “I’m rather disappointed with your Pai, niño. I can’t believe that he’s making you wear something like that,” he had said, eliciting a giggle from Junior when he had tickled him before he had hoisted him into his arms again, settling him onto his hip as if he had done it a hundred times. They had moved to the cabinet which had held the few vases Leo had actually possessed. “Which one?”

The toddler had looked at him before he had whipped his head around to the opened cabinet and Leo had pressed his lips together to try to stifle the laugher that had bubbled in his chest when it had looked as if Junior had actually considered the different options.

“Da!”

Junior had pointed at one of the rather plain white porcelain vases and Leo had complied, taking it out and putting it into the sink to fill it with lukewarm water. He had smiled to himself when the boy had snuggled closer to him, thus forcing him to abandon his plan of setting Junior down onto his feet as he had loosened the foil from around the bouquet to put it into the vase, placing it onto the kitchen table, “Your Pai certainly doesn’t have a great taste when it comes to football but he’s-”

“What did you say?” Cristiano had appeared in the kitchen, carrying a few paper bags.

“I think that you heard me just right, didn’t you?” Leo had chirped, leaning his head back to laugh when Cristiano had wordlessly cocked an eyebrow at him as he had crossed the room to put the bags down onto the counter and had begun to unpack them.

“Pirralho,” the Portuguese had snorted, though had smiled when he had turned his head to look at Leo from over his shoulder.

Bouncing Junior, Leo had come to stand beside him, “What are you doing?”

“I’ve got presents for you.” Cristiano had given him one of the bags, “And I’m going to cook for you.”

A blush had crept up into Leo’s cheeks and he had taken the paper bag. “You don’t have to,” he had muttered, struggling a bit to hold both the toddler and the bag and he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when Cristiano had leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“But I want to. Don’t try to argue with me about it, bebê.”

Of course Leo had not tried to - he had, after all, known just how persistent Cristiano could be, and so he had merely nodded before he had walked over to the small kitchen table, sitting down with Junior in his lap. The toddler had squealed and had reached for the wrapped-up present with grabby hands once Leo taken them out of the bag, squirming so much that he would have slipped off Leo’s lap it Leo would not have closed an arm around him out of reflex. “Wait niño,” he had tried to appease the boy, pulling him back a bit. “You can help me open them if you want to, okay?” He had helped Junior to stand, making sure that his little feet had been securely planted on his thighs, and had kept one arm around the toddler’s waist as the boy had grabbed the first of the presents.

“Da!”

“This one? Alright, you open it up.” Leo had laughed and had placed a kiss onto Junior’s chubby cheek when the toddler had begun to tear at the wrapping paper with an enthusiastic squeal.

“They’re not your presents, Junior,” Cristiano had scolded, though Leo had clicked his tongue and had demonstratively combed through Junior’s curls. “You’re spoiling him, Leo.”

“If he has so much fun unwrapping them...” With his attention fixed onto the toddler in his lap, he had not noticed how soft Cristiano’s gaze had turned as the Portuguese had continued to watch them, abandoning his task of unpacking the bags. Junior had eventually managed to tear the paper open and had looked up at Leo with an apparent demand. “Let’s see what your Pai bought for me, hm?” He had struggled a bit to open the unimpressive box, spluttering at what he had seen,“You _didn’t_.”

Cristiano had laughed and had crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning against the cabinet and watching how Leo had reached inside the box to take the cup out. Leo had put it down onto the table as if it had disgusted him. To be fair, the picture of Cristiano and Sergio celebrating after what he had known had been Madrid’s latest win in the Clásico would easily be able to ruin his morning. “You’re only getting a taste of your own medicine, bebê.” The worst thing about it all may have been the fact that Leo’s name had been written over the photo. “I had it made for you,” Cristiano had laughed, clearly amused by his own ingenuity. “Come on, open the other presents.”

“Did you hear that, niño?” Leo had whispered to Junior, though loud enough that Cristiano had been able to understand it without any struggle, “That’s why everyone thinks that your Pai is an arrogant-”

The Portuguese had let out an indignant sound and Leo had giggled, kissing the top of Junior’s head and setting the second present down in front of the toddler. As it had turned out, Cristiano had went all out and had bought _two_ entire Real Madrid-themed breakfast sets. Not only for Leo, but for Junior as well, complete with a children’s cup, plate and small cutlery, rounded off by two identical place mats. “So that you two can have a nice breakfast tomorrow and whenever we’re stay with you,” Cristiano had commented with a rather smug smirk, causing Leo to splutter as he had lifted Junior off his lap.

“You’re ridiculous!”

“You bought my son a Blaugrana jersey, Leo.” He had snorted and had stood, trying to remember where he had left his phone. “Where are you going?” Cristiano had called after him, but Leo had not answered while he had hasted to retrieve his phone from the side table by the entrance door, reappearing in the kitchen a few seconds later.

“Geri _has_ to see this.”

“I’m surprised that he didn’t let anything slip, to be honest.”

Leo had just plopped back down onto his chair and the gasp that had escaped him at Cristiano’s words had been a honest one, “ _What?_ ”

Cristiano had not turned around from where he had been cutting vegetables, though Leo had not needed to see his face in order to know that he had been grinning, “Mhm, Piqué and Neymar knew that I’d be coming. I had to let them know so that they wouldn’t invite you out, they promised not to tell you.”

“Well, they didn’t.” Leo had let out a disbelieving huff, “Eres un _maldito idio_ -”

“You have my son on your lap, bebê. Watch your language. Did you read the card?”

Leo had not waited for an answer, had grabbed the discarded paper bag and had nearly smacked his forehead when he had realised that he had indeed missed the white envelope at the bottom of the bag. He had expected it to be a Real Madrid card, and his heart had soared when he had pulled it out and had spotted himself and Junior on the cover. The photo must had been taken during Cristiano’s birthday dinner, though Leo had not remembered that he had noticed it being taken. “Oh...”

Cristiano, who had since dried his hands with a dishcloth, had moved over to Leo, coming to stand behind him to cup his face, gently stroking the soft skin. He had not said anything as he had watched how Leo had opened the card to read the short text.

_When I planned to write you this card, I thought that I’d be able to put just how much you mean to me into words but... you know me. This is the third time that I begun writing this and I’m hoping that I won’t fail, haha. I hope that your birthday is the happiest, bebê, and I’m so greatful that I get to spend it with you because you really do make my world better every day. I wish you a year full of happiness and health and opportunities for good memories - with Junior and me! :-) <3 I love you, Leo. Não consigo mais imaginar ficar sem você. Yours, Cristiano._

“Junior drew it,” the Portuguese had commented on the colourful scribbles which had crossed into the written lines while Leo had read the card once more, and Leo’s chest had clenched from the words just as much as from the gentle touch of Cristiano’s hands on his face. “I hope it’s not too...”

Leo had smiled to himself as he had stood from the chair to take his turn with cupping Cristiano’s face and pullind him down into a kiss. He had kissed him almost teasingly slowly, with measured strokes of his tonge and a deliberate compliant sigh when Cristiano had kissed him back. “I love you too,” he had whispered, allowing himself to be pulled into an embrace after the kiss had ended. “Thank you for.... being here today.”

Cristiano had kissed the top of his head, “Don’t thank me for it, bebê. I’m glad that I can be with you on your birthday.”

He had stayed enclosed in the pair of strong arms for a little while longer and once they had loosened from around him, he had stepped away to pick Junior up from the floor. “And _you_ drew that for me?” he had asked with a rather high-pitched voice, pointing at the card and eliciting joyous giggling from the toddler when he had blown raspberries on one of his chubby cheeks. “Thank you so much, niño.” Junior had giggled and squirmed when Leo had ticked his side, kicking his little legs and reaching up to pull at Leo’s hair. Leo had barely managed to prevent himself from squeaking when the pair of tiny fists had torn painfully at his hair. “O- _ah_ -okay, I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”

The boy, however, had merely squealed and had continued to pull at his hair and Leo had winced, letting out a grateful sigh when Cristiano had come to his aid and had removed his son’s hands out of Leo’s hair. “Isso não é uma coisa agradável de se fazer, Junior. Não faça isso!” Cristiano had scolded, underlining his words with a gentle pat onto the two-year-old’s hands. As expected, the toddler’s eyes had grown wide and filled with tears and Cristiano’s gaze had softened as he had taken his son into his arms, holding him close and bouncing him as he had shot Leo an apologetic look.

Watching how Cristiano had calmed his son down, Leo had mouthed a silent “It’s okay”.

“Tudo bem agora?” the Portuguese had whispered into Junior’s curls before he had stopped rubbing his son’s back to shift and get a look at his face. The sigh of relief Cristiano had let out had told Leo that the boy had not actually begun to cry. “Esse é meu bom menino.” Cristiano had kissed both of Junior’s cheeks and had turned him around in his arms so that the boy had been facing Leo. “Do you want to play with Leo while I’m going to cook, hm? Leo realmente gosta de passar um tempo com você, nino.” Junior had not even waited until his father had finished speaking before he had reached out for Leo with grabby hands, whimpering and turning a pleading pout out. Leo had laughed as he had come after the boy’s wish and had hoisted him into his arms, setting him down onto his hip. “I brought some of his toys,” Cristiano had said, stepping forward to steal a quick kiss from Leo. “I’ll come and get you when the food it ready, bebê.”

“Okay.” The Portuguese had returned to his task and Leo had made his way to the upper floor of his house, leaning his cheek against the toddler’s head while he had walked, “Now let’s see where your Pai put your toys...” His heart had somersaulted in a, to him, ridiculous manner as he had realised that Cristiano had claimed the side of the king-sized bed which had once been occupied by Antonella by having put his opened suitcase onto it and his toiletry bag onto the nightstand. _He could get used to it._

It had not taken him long to find Junior’s toys in Cristiano’s Chanel travel bag and he had taken it, had rounded the bed and had lowered himself into a cross-legged seat on the plush rug and had positioned Junior opposite of him. The boy had squealed in excitement when Leo had dumped the content of the bag on the rug between them and had, without much consideration, reached for a Stegosaurus figure. Seeing that not _everything_ in Junior’s life had resolved around football had been a definitve relief for Leo, and his smile had widened when he had sorted out the other dinosaur toys and had packed the other back into the bag before he himself had chosen a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

He had made the best dinosaur sound he could have mustered as he had moved it over the carpet, causing Junior to look at him in surprise before he had squealed in apparent delight and had brought his toy up to bang it against Leo’s and Leo had complied, allowing the Tyrannosaurus toy to fall over. He had gasped for the sake of the game, pretending to be mad. “Why did you do that, niño?” The toddler had giggled. “That’s not very nice!” He never could have kept up the fake frown when Junior had shown him a toothy smile, the one which had made any paternity test pretty much unneccessary.

Despite the fact that a good decade had passend since any of Leo’s cousins had been young enough for him to play with them like Junior had wanted him to, it had not taken him long to adapt to playing with a two-year-old. Junior had squealed and giggled every time that he had knocked Leo’s toy dinosaur over, babbling about something that had probably made sense in his own little world. The toddler had lost interest in knocking Leo’s toy over and over again after a short few minutes and had turned onto his all fours instead, crawling around Leo and nudging him with his small head every now and then.

Leo had taken quite an embarrassing long while until he had realised that the boy had wanted him to do the same thing. He had come after Junior’s wish without any hesitation, of course, and had shifted onto his hands and knees, grinning purposely, “Do you want me to catch you, hm?” Laughing at the adorable sound which Junior had let out, a failed attempt to copy the dinosaur sound Leo had made earlier, he had watched how the two-year-old had took off further into the spacious room with quite the speed, crawling in a zigzag pattern.

“Taaa!”

“I’m gonna get you, niño!” He had tried not to listen to his knees, which had begun to protest from the hardness of the wooden floor, as he had crawled after the toddler with an ounce of the speed that he could have done it with. “I’ll get you!” Leo had continued to chase Junior through the bedroom for quite a while until he had grown too uncomfortable and had shot forward to catch the toddler by his ankle, making sure that he would not accidentally cause him to fall. “I got you, niño!” Junior had squealed and had plopped down onto his stomach to roll over onto his back, flailing his arms and attempting to kick his legs when Leo had pulled him close. “Oh what a lovely little prey you are,” Leo had growled playfully, leaning down to blow raspberries onto Junior’s stomach and making the toddler shriek with laughter while he had tried to twist away before he had gathered him into his arms. “Eres un chico tan dulce, Junior,” he had whispered. “Eres muy querido para mi, and not just because you come hand in hand with your Pai, you know?” 

He had not been surprised when the toddler had merely looked up at him and had sucked on his pacifier, letting out a _hmpf_ , and Leo had stood up from the ground with Junior securely in his arms, trying not to wince when his knees had cracked. “I’m too old to crawl around like that,” he had muttered, rather to himself, as he had crouched down to pick the discarded dinosaur toys off the floor and put them back into Cristiano’s bag. “I wonder what your Pai is doing in the kitchen, cariño. He sure is taking a long time-”

Leo had been interrupted by a rather loud whine and he had realised his mistake when he had seen Junior’s grabby hands and had chuckled as he had handed the dinosaur toy, which he had been about to put away, to the toddler, chuckling as he had handed it to him. “You’re just as impatient as your Pai,” he had laughed and had kissed the boy’s cheek before he had closed the bag and had set it aside. “Let’s see what your Pai’s doing, hm? Why he’s taking so long?” 

Junior had resumed to babble around his pacifier, toying with his Stegosaurus toy while Leo had carried him down the stairs. A heavenly and vaguely familiar smell had met them halfway and when Leo had spoken to Junior again, it had only been once they had reached the kitchen and loud enough that Cristiano could not have missed it over the sound of the extractor hood, “Do _you_ have any idea what your Pai’s doing that’s taking _such a long time_ , niño?”

Cristiano, who obviously had not expected their presence in the room, had turned around from where he had been working at the countertop to greet them with a smile. A few pots had been on the stove, exuding the mouthwatering smell, and Leo had felt the need to snort at the prospect that Cristiano must have searched the entire kitchen to find whatever he had needed. “I didn’t call for you, bebê.”

“Oh I know.” His smile had slowly grown into a grin when he had walked over to where his boyfriend had been standing and had peaked at what he had been doing. His hand had been playfully smacked when he had managed to steal a slice of bell pepper off the cutting board.

“Hey, stop that!” Leo had wanted to pop the piece of vegetable into his mouth, but his hand had unconsciously frozen in its motion when the toddler, which he had been balancing on his hip, had squirmed, whined and had reached up to try and grab the bell pepper. With a sigh of faked annoyance he had allowed Junior to take a hold of it, removing the boy’s pacifier so that he could replace it with the vegetable. Cristiano had snorted, “You know that you can, and should, say no to him sometimes, right?”

“But how could I ever say no to _this?_ ” Leo had retorted, his words underline with honest, albeit not serious despair as he had hoisted Junior a bit higher onto his hip.

The Portuguese had merely snorted again and had shaken his head, giving another piece of bell pepper to him, “So that you won’t starve, bebê,” who had thanked him for it with a kiss. “It’ll be done in about ten minutes.” Leo had nodded and had kissed Junior’s cheek before he had set him down to open the drawer that had held his plates. He had pressed his lips together to prevent himself from making a sound when he Cristiano’s hand had splayed itself over his ass while he had bend down to retrieve the needed plates, but had failed to keep himself from flinching when he had straightened and had bumped against a broad chest. “You know what?” Cristiano had whispered, lowering his head to speak right into Leo’s ear. He had squeezed Leo’s ass once, “I’d be more than happy if you’d decide to wear them a lot more often.”

Leo had managed to catch himself rather fast mostly due to the fact that Junior had been babbling nearby, and he had laughed as he had turned around to so that he had been facing the taller man, “Forget it, Cristiano. They’re not that comfortable.”

Cristiano had pouted, but had allowed Leo to move past him and over to the kitchen table, where he had put the plates down to place them on the places. “But they look so good on you...” He had smirked to himself and had, out of sheer temptation, leaned over the table instead of moving around it to set the last plate down, bending at the waist in an exaggerated manner and he would have sworn that he had heard Cristiano letting out a choked moan, “ _Fuck_ , bebê. Jesus.”

Having decided to ignore it he had finished setting the table, putting a smaller plate, for Junior, beside his own and getting a water carafe out of the fridge. He had plopped down onto his chair to watch Cristiano cook and Junior play on the kitchen floor, trying not to think about how he would have liked to witness that scene every day anew. It had indeed not taken longer than ten minutes until Cristiano had announced that lunch had been done, and while Leo had not asked what it had been that he had cooked, a part of him had already known that he would like it. Cristiano had drained the pasta and had mixed it together with the sauce and Leo had picked Junior up to put him onto his lap, subconsciously rocking him as he had watched his boyfriend.

Cristiano had smiled at him when he had come to the table to collect their plates, “I can take him-”

“No no, it’s fine,” Leo had interfered, “I’ll make sure that he’ll have a high chair the next time.”

There had not been an answer from Cristiano, though it had been undeniable that his smile had widened before he had turned away to tend to their late lunch and Leo had just managed to convince Junior to set his dinosaur toy aside when both his and the toddler’s plates had been set down in front of him. “I hope that you’ll like it, bebê.”

He had recognised the dish as the one that Cristiano had cooked for them on his own birthday, and his mouth had watered at the sight of the shrimps. “I will,” he had reassured him. “What’s the name of the dish?”

Cristiano had moved to his designated seat only after he had poured water into Leo’s and Junior’s glasses. “I don’t actually know what it’s called,” the Portuguese had said, giving a lopsided smile, “but it’s what my father always cooked when there was a birthday in our family.”

Leo’s smile had faltered before he could have prevented it, well aware of how sore of a topic his father’s untimely death had been to Cristiano and while his boyfriend had not lost his smile as he had looked at him, Leo had been sure that something had flashed behind his eyes. “It’s very good,” he had eventually said after having cleared his throat, averting his gaze to the plate in front of him and Cristiano had reached over the table to put his hand on top of Leo’s and squeeze it once.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” While Leo’s heart had still beating rather fast, the mood had been lifted when they had begun to eat and he had alternated between eating and feeding Junior. It had only been after the first fork-full of noodles had landed on the toddler’s shirt that both adults had noticed the lack of a bib and Cristiano had sighed when when had tried to clean his son up. “Thank God you’re only wearing your Pai’s jersey,” Leo had whispered, though deliberately loud enough that Cristiano had heard him, as he had held the fork to Junior’s mouth again. “I wouldn’t be too disappointed if it turns out to be ruined...”

“You’ll never stop, will you?” Cristiano had laughed, picking up his glass.

“How can I when you’re forcing him to become a Blanco out of all things?”

“He’s my son, bebê,” the Portuguese had said, grinning and shaking his head.

Leo’s eyebrows had risen, “So? What if he grows up to like Barça more, hm?”

“Sergio would probably have a full-blown heart attack on the spot and I would need to have a serious talk with the litte man.” Cristiano had winked at him, “Not to mention that I’d be very cross with you.”

“Oh no, I’m _so_ scared,” he had said with a snort, demonstratively kissing the top of Junior’s head. “I think that you’ll love the team your teddy’s in, won’t you cariño? It doesn’t matter what your pai’s saying, I’m sure that you’ll make a lovely little fan.” While Junior’s hum had most likely been due to the fact that he had been handed another piece of shrimp, Leo and Cristiano had still shared a laugh over it.

“You’re such a dork sometimes.”

“That’s true, but I know that you love me for it.”

“You’re right, bebê.” Having been the first one to finish eating, Cristiano had leaned back into his chair and had resumed to drink from his water with slow sips as he had watched how Leo had continued to feed Junior. The boy’s appetite had been so immense that Leo had troubles eating his own portion of the noodles and while he would not have dreamed about complaining about it, it had been Cristiano who had eventually decided to step in, “Give him to me.”

“What?”

The Portuguese had rolled his eyes, though it had in no way meant to be either teasing or contemptuous, “You have to eat too, Leo.”

“I know, it’s not-”

Cristiano had partially raised from his chair, had leaned over the table and had taken his son under the armpits to set him down onto his lap with a huff. Leo had been more than just a bit stunned and he had felt a blush rising into his cheeks when his boyfriend had grinned at him and had reached for Junior’s plate as well. “ _Eat_. I know that you love him and that he’s very fond of you, but you shouldn’t put yourself back that much.” He had hated the fact that his heard had seared _so_ much at what Cristiano had said, and he had only managed to muster a quick, short-lived smile before he had picked up his own fork again. The remainder of the late lunch had gone by rather quietly, the only constant noise having been Junior’s babbling and the occasional squeals the toddler had let out. When he had stood, wanting to ask whether Cristiano would like dessert, the older man had made a disagreeing and somewhat indignant sound. “Leo, bebê, I don’t want you to clean all of this on your own-”

Leo had snorted, his cheeks tinted with a hue of pink, “I... made dessert. It’s in the fridge.”

Cristiano’s lips had curled into a smirk, “You know, for someone who’s claiming that their _not_ a perfect housewife you’re making it very hard for me to not see you as just that.”

“You can make breakfast tomorrow if you want to,” Leo had retorted when he had opened the fridge to get the backing dish with the French toast out.

“Want to, bebê?”

He had pulled the cling wrap off and had grinned at Cristiano from over his shoulder, “I’d _like_ you to,” as he had put the dish into the microwave, snorting at the way that Cristiano had rolled his eyes.

“Alright then, I guess I did it to myself.” While the dessert had been heating up, Leo had retrieved a fresh set of plates and cutlery. Cristiano had caught him by the front of his shirt as he had put it set it onto the table and had pulled him down into a quick kiss, “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Leo had nearly burned his fingers on the dish when he had brought it to the table. “It’s French toast with raspberries and chocolate chips,” he had explained, reaching for the spatula to load two regular sized and one smaller serving onto the plates, “nothing special, but I didn’t know that you’d be coming...”

“I love everything that you make.” Cristiano’s words had carried nothing but the truth, for the Portuguese had _moaned_ around his first mouth-full of the dessert, “Oh God, Leo...”

Leo had grinned from the memory of when Cristiano had last moaned the same thing, though had willed those memories back down as soon as they had come up, “Does it taste good?”

“You know that it does.”

He had taken the chance to gather Junior into his arms again, and the toddler had giggled when Leo had kissed his cheek and had offered the smaller portion of the dessert to him. “There you are again, hm?” Cristiano had cocked a stern eyebrow, but the corners of his mouth had twitched with a smile. As it had seemed, Junior had liked the baked treat just as much as his father had and Leo had nearly toppled over from laughter when the toddler had tried to grab the dessert with his bare hands, but since neither he nor Cristiano had wanted such kind of mess, however, he had dropped a kiss into Junior’s dark curls as he had moved the plate out of the boy’s reach. “No, niño. Not with your hands.” Hyperaware of the way that Cristiano’s eyes had never really left him, Leo had not even bothered to try and force his blush down. 

He had attempted to argue that Cristiano had already cooked when his boyfriend had stood and had announced that he would clean up the kitchen, but had been silenced with a kiss and Cristiano’s claim that he had wanted to do it. So Leo had fed Junior his dessert until the toddler had no longer been willing to open his mouth. Cristiano had passed him a damp cloth before he could have asked for it, and he had cleaned Junior up with a few wipes. “Are you sure that there’s nothing I can do?”, Leo had enquired as he had stood from his chair and had rested Junior on his hip.

Cristiano, who had been rinsing the plates, had snorted, “ _No_ , and that’s final, bebê.”

“Okay, okay.” With the toddler in his arms, Leo had left the kitchen for the living room. “Do you want me to read you something, niño?” Junior had rested his check onto Leo’s shoulder, something that he had taken as some sort of agreement, and he had smiled at the boy when he had sat himself down onto the couch and had opened the drawer of the coffee table. Thank God that he had listened to his intuition of not getting rid of the toys and books that he had bought when his cousins had still been children. “Look,” he had said with a gentle tone and had pulled out a few books to lay them out onto the coffee table, “which one do you want me to read?”

The toddler had eyes the selection for a moment before he had eventually smacked his small, chubby hand onto one of the books, “Da!”

“Alright then.” Leo had snorted, had taken said book and had shuffled back onto the couch so that he had been able to lean against the backrest and position Junior a bit more comfortably on his lap. For how long he had read to the boy he had not known, but he had noticed that the toddler had grown more and more heavy against him the further he had gone into the story and by the time that he had read the last page of the picture book, the first little snore had been audible. “Oh niño...”

Trying to be as gentle and careful as he only could have been, he had closed the book and had set it aside before he had shifted Junior in his arms so that the toddler had been lying on Leo’s chest on his stomach instead. He had held his breath when the boy had stirred, though Junior had not woken up. The boy’s tiny fingers had buried themselves in the fabric of Leo’s shirt and Junior had nestled closer against Leo’s chest, sighing softly. Pretty much trapped in place by then, Leo had smiled to himself and had leaned further back against the backrest of his couch, gently moving his hand over the toddler’s back while he had listened to his even breathing. If he would have had his phone close, he would have taken a photo of it. Cristiano had appeared in the door of the living room a few minutes later and considering the way that the Portuguese had smiled as he had quietly entered the room, Leo had guessed that he had expected to be met with such a scene.

“Hey,” Cristiano had whispered. “He fell asleep?”

Leo had nodded, not stopping the caressing gesture of his hand. “Yeah, I read to him,” he had whispered back, “I didn’t think that he’d be that tired.”

When Cristiano had answered, his voice had still not been raised above a whisper. “We had an early start, and he slept a bit on the plane but I knew that he wouldn’t last long today.” Sitting down beside Leo, he had kissed the younger man’s cheeks and had brought a hand to the nape of his back to caress the soft hair he had found there, “Let’s bring him to bed.”

“Okay.”

The Portugese’s hand had disappeared from Leo’s neck to splay itself in the small of the shorter man’s back once they had both stood up from the couch. It had remained there when they had walked to the guest room on the upper floor. “Just put him down,” Cristiano had retorted after Leo had asked whether he had wanted to undress him. “I’ll change him once he wakes up, he’ll be cranky otherwise.” Leo had obeyed, had put the sleeping toddler down in the middle of the large bed, thus preventing that Junior would accidentally fall off when he would turn in his sleep, and had allowed his boyfriend to take his hand and lead him out of the room.

༻✦༺

His boyfriend had left the door ajar, but Leo barely had time to register it before he had been pulled into an embrace and had found himself being walked backwards. He had nearly slammed against the door frame when Cristiano had crowded him into his bedroom with a haste as if his life had depended on it. “Cri-” Cristiano had not thrown the door close behind them, out of consideration for his son’s sleep, but the way that he had growled had shown just how urgent it had been to him and his hand had not even left the handle of the door when he had kissed Leo, keeping his free arm steadily wrapped around Leo’s waist. They had stumbled further into the room while Cristiano had claimed his mouth in a way that had left the younger man unable to think about anything but the presence of Cristiano, of his hands groping at his ass, his tongue in his mouth and the unmistakable erection Leo had already felt against his stomach.

His breath had hitched and he had arched against the taller man when his backside had been squeezed hard enough to not have been a gesture of unmasked of desire. “Why did you have to walk around in those ridiculous pants,” Cristiano had growled against his lips, catching the bottom lip between his teeth. “If it wouln’t have been for my son, I would’ve fucked you right over the kitchen table, bebê.”

They had begun to tug at each other’s clothing with hasted and eager hands and heat had collected in the pit of Leo’s stomach when Cristiano had first pulled of his, then his own shirt. To him, he had still been so breathtakingly hot and he had bitten onto his lower lip as he had hooked a finger underneath the waistband of his boyfriend’s pants, looking up to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to suck-”

“I’d always want that,” the Portuguese had interrupted him, giving a barione chuckle and winking at him. “But today’s all about you, bebê.”

Heat had shot into both Leo’s face and his cock when Cristiano had said that and the older man had merely kicked off his shoes before he had taken him by the waist, had spun him around and had pushed him onto the bed in a controlled fall. “Cris-”

“Do you have any idea of how beautiful you are?” He had gasped, from the whispered words as well as from the kiss that had been placed onto the sensitive spot behind his ear. “How ridiculously _cute_ you are when you try to tease me?” Cristiano had run his hands over Leo’s side in appreciation, laying down a line of kisses from his neck to the space between his shoulder blades as he had hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of the younger man’s shorts, “And how fucking _hot_ you are when you strut around in those pants?” Leo had been left gasping and whimpering when his trousers had nearly been torn off and had landed somewhere on the floor beside the bed, though Cristiano had been much more gentle as he had freed him of his underwear and had returned to tower above him as soon as Leo had been completely undressed. 

“Look at you,” Cristiano had muttered, nuzzling his face into the nape of Leo’s neck before he had moved back down, kissing random spots of pale skin as he had followed the curve of his spine. “I’m so fucking lucky...” Leo, whose face must had been lit with two bright pink splotches, had pressed his face into the pillow he had pulled close when he had felt Cristiano’s hands on his ass, splaying over his cheeks and spreading them apart as he had kneaded them and while he had been a bit embarrassed by being so revealed, he had moved his hips into the touch. “Às vezes eu ainda não consigo acreditar que você é meu, bebê.” Cristiano had kissed the small of his back and had squeezed his ass a bit harder, “But now that I have you I don’t know who I managed to go so long without you by my side.”

Leo’s mind had been left reeling at the first broad stroke of Cristiano’s tongue against his hole and the shout of Cristiano’s name had stood somewhere between a moan and a cry, eliciting a chuckle from his boyfriend. Cristiano had swatted his ass once, “Come on, get onto your knees, bebê.” Instead of doing it on his own accord, he had rather been hoisted onto his knees, a position that had left his ass raised and his face still firmly planted on the pillow. He had been reduced to gasping, clutching at the pillow and moaning as his hips had twitched while Cristiano had resumed his task, had licked him opend with deliberate strokes of his tongues. The Portuguese’s fingers had digged into the soft flesh of Leo’s cheeks hard enough to blend boarders with painful, though it had only done its part to increase his arousal.

He had breathed a wanton little “Fuck” and had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when Cristiano had pushed a first finger in and despite the insane amount of arousal and need that had been burning inside of them both, he had been as careful as always.

“Are you okay, bebê?” Leo had nodded and had underlined his words by arching his back and moving his hips against Cristiano, who had chuckled and had twisted his fingers around until he had heard a sharper whine fall from Leo’s lips. He had taken the hint and had pushed a second finger past the spit-slick muscle, gently rubbing at Leo’s sensitive spot while holding his squirming hips somewhat steady with his free hand. “Do you have lube, bebê?” the older man had asked after a good minute of having fingered him open and Leo had mumbled his answer into the pillow, which he then had used to muffle his moans rather than to hide his embarrassment as he had been hyperaware of the fact that Junior had been sleeping in the room next door. Cristiano had laughed, “I’m sorry, what?”

“In my nightstand,” he had repeated, twisting around to catch a sight of his boyfriend’s face. _My God_ , Leo had thought, _how can anyone be so beautiful_.

The older man had hurried to retrieve it, finding it at the first try, and Leo’s heart had somersaulted at the sight of his boyfriend’s flagged cock. He had reached out for him without really having been aware of doing so. “You’re so needy today, bebê,” Cristiano had said, merely brushing the tip of his tongue over Leo’s plush bottom lip before he had moved back onto the bed, popping the lid of the lube bottle open. “You’re so beautiful.” When the pair of fingers had slipped into him again, they had been slick and Cristiano had scissored them a couple of times to spread the lube before he had pulled them out again, wiping a bit more of the lube into the crease of his ass. “And your ass is just...” He had been thrusted forward when the right one of his ass cheeks had been slapped, the pain eliciting a lewd moan from him, and Cristiano had spanked him once more on the same spot, bending down to press a kiss onto the burning skin, “Olhe para você, bebê. So fucking gorgeous.”

“Come on,” Leo had whined, having grown a bit impatient, “ _p_ _lease_.”

“Needy, like I said. Maybe I should make you beg for it first.” It had been a bit hypocritical, considering that Cristiano’s voice had been trembling from his arousal, and Leo had felt his cock twitching when his boyfriend had aligned the tip of his cock with his loosened hole. “Okay, bebê?” He had once more only managed to nod and Cristiano had begun to push in after that. While he had not been as unexperienced as he could have been, it had still hurt a bit when Cristiano had slid in until his pelvis had been pressed against his ass, stretching him out. His boyfriend had been by no means small and he had tried to relax as much as he could have, had arched his back a bit more and had concentrated on his breathing while his body had grown accustomed to the feeling of penetration. “Leo?”

He had basked in the feeling of Cristiano’s hands caressing his back so much that the question of his name had startled him a bit. “I’m good,” he had breathed, and he had raised onto his forearms to look back at Cristiano. “I’m good, go on.” The Portuguese had smiled down at him and had slowly run one of his hands over the curve of his back, and it had only been the blush that had stood on his tanned cheeks which had told of how much he had been holding himself back so that he would not just grab Leo by the hips and start to fuck into him. The realisation of it had made him smile and he had kept his gaze fixed on Cristiano’s face when he had pushed his hips back and had sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, making his intent shamelessly clear.

It had apparently everything that his boyfriend had needed and Leo’s arms had nearly given out from underneath him when Cristiano had begun to fuck him with thrusts which, albeit slow and measured, had caused his mind to go blank. “Look at you,” the older man had grunted out without allowing the rhythm to falter, making Leo’s breath hitch. “Taking my dick so beautifully. _Fuck_ , it’s like you were made for me to fuck you.” He had bitten his lip hard to keep himself from letting out the moans that had been building up in his chest when he had matched the movements of his hips to Cristiano’s, though had failed to do so when his boyfriend had picked up speed and he had burried his face in the pillow as lewd moans and high-pitched whines had escaped unhindered. “That’s what I like to hear,” Cristiano had thrown in with a rough voice, moving his hand away from where it had been splayed in the small of Leo’s back to grab him be the hip and use the hold to pull him unceremoniously against him so that he had been bottomed out. “I love how you sound when I’m fucking you, bebê.”

Leo had been utterly overwhelmed, though in a good way. While had since caught onto the fact that Cristiano had apparently loved to talk during sex, he had grown accustomed to the sweet talk. Cristiano had only talked dirty to him the time that they had fucked in the shower after the Clásico and since that situation had been an entirely different one, Leo had been hit by it in a different way. Figuratively as well as literally speaking, for Cristiano had pulled out until only the head of his cock had remained inside of him and had raised his hand to spank him once on the same spot that he had hit earlier before he had fucked into him again. “Cris!” He had clasped his hand over his mouth, shocked by how loud the shout of his boyfriend’s name had been and Cristiano had given a breathy laugh, squeezing the cheek he had just hit.

“Your ass already is a masterpiece on its own but with my handprint on it? Fucking perfect, bebê. Eu gostaria de tirar uma foto de você agora.” Leo had felt him shifting on the bed behind him, and his guess of it having been so that he could gain a better leverage had been right when Cristiano had fucked him from a slightly different angle, assuring that he would feel every thrust directly against his prostate. It had made his vision lit up with white specks and had caused his arms to give out from underneath him for good, and he pillow surely would have smothered him if Cristiano would not have leaned over to pull it out from underneath his head and had carelessly thrown it aside. “You don’t have to hide from me, bebê.”

“I-I’m not hiding,” he had managed to bring out between two broken moans, as the older man had paused thrusting for a few seconds to press his pelvis against his ass and circle his hips, thus moving his cock without having to pull out an inch. Leo had whimpered as had tried to initiate the thrusting again, and Cristiano had chuckled low under his breath, letting go of Leo’s waist to roughly grab both of his cheeks in order to spread them apart and reveal the sight of himself buried in the younger man.

He had eventually let go of one cheek to stroke the sensitive skin that had been stretched out around his cock with his thumb, causing Leo’s breath to hitch and his muscles to clench on their own accord. “I think it’s adorable, you know,” the Portuguese had went on, slowing down the speed of his movements as he had resumed to fuck the younger man, watching how his slick cock had disappeared inside of him. He had given another breathy laugh, “That you’re still all shy and blushing around me even though you gave me a blowjob the same night that we first kissed.”

The blush that Leo had felt creeping up his chest had been a vivid shade of red which had left the tips of his ears burning, unvoluntarily proving what Cristiano had said as correct. “I-I didn’t know whether you wanted me,” he had retorted with his voice only a little higher than a whisper, and had squeezed his eyes shut. “I didn’t know if you...”

If he would have been able to catch a sight of the other man’s face, he would have seen how his eyes hand gained a shimmer and how he had been biting his lip in the same way that Leo had done it earlier. “You know for how long I’ve wanted you, Leo,” Cristiano had eventually answered, speeding up the rhythm again. “But I don’t think that you have any idea how much you being with me has changed everything.” There had not been an elaboration as for what exactly he had meant with _everything_ , but Leo had still whimpered and the tension on his lower stomach had still seemed to have increased tenfold after he had heard those words. His cock had twitched, but he had been too slack to reach for it.

The movements of Cristiano’s hips had become erratic after his confession and his fingers had dug into Leo’s waist hard enough to surely leave bruises behind. It had been clear that they had both been approaching the peaks of their orgasms and it had been Leo who had come first, pushed over the edge when Cristiano had sneaked a hand around his body and had taken a hold of his cock, finishing him off with a few clicks of his wrist. When Leo’s body had clenched down hard around Cristiano’s cock in response, his boyfriend had thrown his head back and had spurted his release inside of him with a moan of his name. If it would not have been for Cristiano’s arm around his waist Leo would have collapsed onto the wet spot on the bed, and the Portuguese had freed his softening cock before he had plopped down onto his back and had pulled the smaller man in top of him. Neither of them had spoken as they had rode out the waves of their orgasms, breathing heavily and basking in the afterglow.

“I love you, Cristiano had whispered after a good while of silence had passed between them and had moved his hand over Leo’s back, brushing his lips against his smooth cheek. “I love you so much, bebê.”

“I love you too,” Leo had answered with an equally low voice from where he had kept his face hidden in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. He had stopped drawing invisible circles on the tanned skin of Cristiano’s chest with a languid finger. “That was... hot.”

Cristiano had laughed an undeniably smug laugh and had driven hand into Leo’s hair, “It was, huh? _You_ were so hot, Leo. I... wasn’t too rough with you, was I?”

Leo had shaken his head and had raised it to look at him. Sure, his ass had burned in more than one place and his back had ached a bit, but he could not have been any happier. “No.” His heart had soared when Cristiano had looked at him with so much love that he had felt it downright seeping into him and he had stretched to kiss a corner of his boyfriend’s mouth. “I loved it, don’t worry. Do you want to shower first?”

“It’s okay if you go,” the Portuguese had replied, a dreamy smile growing on his relaxed face when he had combed his fingers through Leo’s hair.

Without having really planned to do so, he had hurried in the bathroom as much as it had only been possible. He had brushed his teeth while he had stood in the shower and had only paused to touch the sore one of his backside cheeks, able to _feel_ Cristiano’s handprint on his skin. Shaking his head, he had slipped into a loose pair of boxers and had padded back to the bedroom, though stopping by the guest room to peek inside through the ajar door. The toddler had indeed slept through it all, had still been splayed out on his back. Merely his pacifier had fallen out from between slack lips.

Leo had heard the soft steps approaching him and so he had not flinched when an arm had laid itself around his waist. Cristiano had not spoken, had only only kissed his temple before be had pulled away and had walked off to the bathroom. If his chest had clenched as he had watched him leave, he had tried to not pay attention to it. With a lopsided and pretty much enamoured smile he had snatched his phone off the nightstand and had plopped down onto the bed, only then realising that the sheets had been changed, as there had been no dreaded wet spots. He had been so engrossed in scrolling through his Amazon app that he had squealed when Cristiano had suddenly grabbed him by his shoulders and had turned him over to kiss him, though had opened his mouth to allow the kiss to be deepened. It had not lasted for long, since they had both been pretty much spend, and Leo had draped himself halfway across his boyfriend without waiting an invitation to do so. Cristiano had snorted when he had resumed to be on his phone. 

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for a high chair,” he had mumbled. “But there are so many different ones, how am I supposed to choose...”

“Are you serious?”

He had raised his head from Cristiano’s chest, his brows pulled together in confusion, “What?”

There had been a few seconds of silence between them, seconds during which his boyfriend had looked at him with wide and undeniable vulnerable eyes. When Cristiano had spoken again, it had been with an unusually soft voice. “I told you that you have no idea how much you being with me changed everything, bebê.”

“Cris...” Leo had leaned his head into the palm that had come up to cup his face.

“It’s no longer just me and Junior, Leo,” Cristiano had went on, brushing his thumb over his cheek. “And I know that you buying a high chair isn’t that much but I can’t stop thinking about that... we’re already a family, in a way.”

His heart had been beating so forcefully against his rips that Leo had feared for it to burst out of his chest, “Really?”

Cristiano’s smile had widened, “I wouldn’t ever lie about that, bebê. Look how well you and Junior get along, it’s all that I could’ve asked for.” Blinking hard, Leo had tried to get the burning behind his eyes under control. With all that he had expected, something like that certainly had not been it, and he had nestled back against Cristiano’s chest without managing to get a single world over his tongue. One of the older man’s hands had found its way into his hair, stroking it with gentle and ever-repeating motions. “Eu te amo muito.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be coming a bit slower from now on, since the new (online) semester just started, but be assured that I'll definitely finish this story! :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

**_Monday, 17. August 2015._ **

The first thing that Leo had _originally_ wanted to do when he had gotten the notification that his requested days off had been granted by the management had been to call Cristiano and tell him. In fact, he already had his phone in his hand when he had been sitting in his parked car and had, on a whim, decided against it and had stashed his phone away with a smug grin on his face instead. _Two could play a game_ had shot through his head, causing him to actually laugh out loud when he had started the engine. Cristiano having flown to Barcelona to surprise him on his birthday had been about the sweetest thing that anyone had ever done for him and he would not have dreamed about being angry at the way that his boyfriend had gone behind his back to work with his two best friends to set it up, but Leo could not have possibly ignored the opportunity to get a bit of revenge.

Nothing mean or vicious, of course. He had loved him too much to ever go through with something that would go beyond a bit of teasing. So when Cristiano and him had talked on the phone later that same day Leo had fibbed that he had been in the process of booking a flight to Florence when he, in truth, had been inserting the required passenger’s details for a flight to Madrid instead. “I’ve never been there before,” he had chirped. “Ney said that it’s a great city and when he asked whether I’d like to come with him...”

“It is, I visited it a few years ago. How long will you stay?” 

There had been an undeniable hint of something lacing Cristiano’s voice, though Leo had failed to put his finger onto what exactly it had been. Disappointment, yearning or maybe even jealousy due to the knowledge that he would spend time with Neymar? He had nearly slipped right then and there. “Uhm, f-four days,” he had stuttered, and his cheeks had heated up as if he had been a child that was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Cristiano had hummed on the other end of the line, “I hope that you’ll have a great time, bebê. Send me a postcard, will you?”

“Sure,” Leo had laughed, running a hand through his hair.

The Portuguese’s question had caught him a bit off guard, “Leo, you... you’re not sharing a room with Neymar, are you?”

“No,” he had said after a few seconds of awkward silence had passed between them. Leo had swallowed uneasily, “Cristiano, do you really believe that I would cheat-”

“No I don’t!” The other’s shout had been loud enough that it had resounded through Leo’s bedroom from the speakers of his phone and Cristiano had cleared his throat, probably a bit embarrassed by his outburst. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I know that you’d never do that.” Once more, silence had followed. “When will I see you again, bebê?

He had realised just how much mental strength it actually took to keep the façade up when his boyfriend’s softly spoken words had reached him and while he had not seen Cristiano’s face, he had known that he was probably pouting. “I’ll come to visit you as soon as I can, okay?”, he had placated the Portuguese as he had printed out his then booked plane tickets, his chest bubbling with excitement.

His boyfriend had sighed. “It’s just... the more I see you the more I actually miss you, you know? It’s hard to explain, but that’s how it is.”

It had been exactly how Leo had felt. The more he had watched how Cristiano, and Junior, had left or the more and the more often he had waved them goodbye as he had driven off, the harder it had seemed to become. Then that Cristiano’s and his relationship had been established, that they had become somewhat of an unconventional family, the time that they had spend apart had hit him quite hard and it had only been made worse by the fact that they had both been very much aware that it would not get any better in the foreseeable future. “Cris?”

“Yeah, bebê?”

“I miss you a lot. You and Junior.”

“I think that he’s missing you too,” Cristiano had said with a soft laugh and Leo’s smile had widened almost ridiculously as he had climbed off his bed to retrieve the printed-out tickets from the printer.

“He is?”

The Portuguese had snorted, “Of course he’s missing you, Leo. You’re spoiling him more than my mãe’s already doing it.”

“I’m not _spoiling_ him,” Leo had retorted with a playfully snappish tone.

“Mhm, sure thing bebê. I never said that I don’t like it, did I.”

“Well, I think that he’s precious and deserves it all.”

Cristiano had sounded unusually quiet, “You know how much it means to me when you spend so much time with him, when you say those things...”

His voice had dropped to a level that matched Cristiano’s when he had answered, “I do know that.”

“I know that I must’ve told you that a hundred times already.”

“But it’s okay,” Leo had retorted, wishing that he would have been there to hug the other man. “I understand it and,” the blush on his face had darkened slightly, “it feels good to hear it, too.”

“Could you FaceTime me? I want to see your face, I bet it’s that pretty shade of pink again.”

“Cris!”

“Ver seu rosto corar é adorável demais, bebê.”

༻✦༺

The rest of the week, until his flight to Madrid had been due, had went by incredibly slowly. Leo had already packed his suitcase the same evening that he had booked his flights and between training and his usual work, he had little else to do than to wish that it would be Monday already. He had been practically dying to see what Cristiano’s reaction would be when he would suddenly turn up at his front door and God, how Leo had yearned to feel his boyfriend’s arms around him again. They had not seen each other for almost three weeks by then which, for them, had not been an exceptionally long time but given Leo’s excitement, he had been hyperaware of nearly every hour that he had been forced to wait for said Monday morning. 

Cristiano and him had, for no particular reason, spend a lot of time on Face Time during the weekend. His boyfriend had initiated it, having claimed that he had wanted to see his face and who would Leo have been to deny his wish? Whenever he had been teased about being a housewife - the weekends had always been the only time that he really had the opportunity to tidy his entire house and so Cristiano had practically watched him doing so, he had merely responded with a knowing grin and had chirped that he would be having a great time in Florence with Neymar. Cristiano had huffed and had shown the particular pout which Juniour had undeniably inherited from him each and every time, never failing to make Leo laugh.

“You know,” Cristiano had said at one point, “you’re supposed to go on a holiday with _me_.”

Leo, who had been dusting a bookshelf, had turned around to look at his phone that he had propped up on a nearby chest of drawers. “I know,” he had said, “but it's not possible, is it.” It had been a realisation which had resulted in quite the twinge. _If all_ , he had thought, _it would probably take years_. _And even then the paparazzi probably wouldn’t give them a quiet minute._

“It will be,” Cristiano had retorted. “It will be possible one day, you’ll see. I’ll show you Madeira then, Leo.”

“You will?”

His boyfriends smile had been blinding, even through the phone. “Don’t doubt it, bebê. I definitely will. It’s a promise.”

༻✦༺

It had been Gerard who had, once again, driven him to the airport, though the Spaniard would not accompany him to Madrid that time. “Ser’s coming to visit me on Friday,” Gerard had thrown in after Leo had buckled up and while his friend had told him that at least a dozen time, he had still smiled and patted his shoulder as if it had been the first time. He had been happy for his friends, and he had known that Gerard had been just as happy for him.

Leo had deliberately chosen one of the earlier flights, since he had been well familiar with his boyfriend’s routine. The Blancos would train early and Cristiano would make a break at home before he would head off to a gym session with Sergio and James; he had planned to surprise him during said break. As a thank you for having driven him, he had bought Gerard a coffee before he had gotten his suitcase out of the trunk of his friend’s car. “Your _Iced Vanilla Cloud Macchiato with an extra shot of caramel_ ,” Leo had said with a snort, passing the coffee to Gerard, who had grinned at him in return.

“Buy me the same one when I pick you up on Thursday, yeah?”

“You got it.”

Since he had checked in online the day before, Leo simply had to give up his luggage and thanks to having booked first class, the security check had been over with just as fast. Despite inside he had worn his sunglasses and a cab and had chosen the most offside seat in the terminal, starting the first one of the episodes he had downloaded for the duration that the flight would take. Coming to Madrid, he had realised as he had stepped into the arrival hall of Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport about an hour and fifty minutes later, had felt more like coming home than arriving at a holiday destination.It had been a realisation that had made him smile and he had caught himself looking a bit too long at his phone, or rather at the photo that he had not changed since he had visited Cristiano on Junior’s birthday. He could not have remained stoic at the sight of the two smiling, no matter how often he would see it. He had really loved the both of them. 

Leo had been lucky enough to hail down a cab whose driver had neither cared about who his passenger had been nor had tried to engage him into any sort of conversation beyond a greeting and the request for an address, so the drive had gone by quiet and as unproblematic as the flight had been. Though when Leo had stood in the on the driveway of Cristiano’s house, his suitcase in one and his rucksack in his other hand, he had felt more than just a bit stupid. Cristiano’s Lamborghini had not stood on its usual spot in front of the garage and Leo had sobered up as if someone had pulled the plug on his excitement as he had slowly made his way to the front door.

He had hesitated before he had eventually set his suitcase down to ring the bell. What would he be supposed to do if Cristiano had since left? Standing there like an idiot and waiting until his boyfriend would eventually return had not been the kind of embarrassment that he had been willing to endure. Leo had waited for a possible reaction, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he had done so and he had just been about to step back and turn around with a sigh of resignation when he had indeed perceived the sound of footfalls nearing in on him.

“Já é hora de você-” The door had indeed been opened rather zestfully but instead of with Cristiano, Leo had come face to face with a middle-aged woman and while he had never seen her in person, he had known that it had been his mother. “Oh!” Dolores dos Santos Aveiro’s face had instantly turned alight with a bright and undeniably honest smile as she had looked him up and down, “So I finally get to meet the man who my son is always talking about after all!”

She had seemed so thoroughly, so honestly happy that Leo had failed to keep a faint blush from rising into his face. “I...”

“What am I thinking. Come in, come in!” Dolores had stepped aside and had opened the door, asking him inside with an inviting gesture of her hand.

She had taken his suitcase and rucksack from him before Leo even had the chance to negate the wordless offer and he had been a bit embarrassed when he had watched how she had placed them next to the foot of the stairs, “Señora-”

“Ah!” Cristiano’s mother had walked back over to him and had clicked her tongue, cocking an eyebrow at Leo as if he had been a child about to be scolded. “None of that now, yes? You can call me Dolores, or Mãe or any other name you have in mind, but I won’t accept my son-in-law calling me Señora. I already feel old on my own!” To say that he had been just a bit overwhelmed would have been an understatement. His mind had not quite moved on from the fact that she had called him _her son-in-law_ when he had accepted the motherly embrace she had offered to him. Dolores had patted him between the shoulder blades, “I’m so happy that I finally get to meet you, Lionel. I’ve been very curious to get to know you - the real you, of course, I’ve seen plenty of your public persona on the TV.”

“Leo,” he had answered a bit abashed, “my friends a-and family call me Leo.”

Nodding once as if they had just signed a deal, Dolores had smiled at him before she had shaken her head and had muttered a string of Portuguese under her breath. She had sighed, “Cristiano didn’t tell me that you were coming today, Leo. Ah, aquele garoto! I wanted to make Bifanas but I’ll go grocery shopping later and then cook something better. Meu filho nunca aprende.”

Leo’s heart had soared and he had brought up a hand to lay it onto her shoulder in a calming gesture. “You don’t have to-”

“Ah ah, don’t try and argue with me about it, docinho.”

They had looked at each other, both smilding wildly. “Cristiano doesn’t know that I’m here.”

Dolores had let out a surprised sound and had chuckled, “So it is a surprise then, yes?”

“Yeah,” Leo had intoned, “I told him that I would fly to Florence with a friend of mine. It’s... payback for what he did to me, in a way.”

She had actually pinched his cheek, so as if he had been no older than Junior, and had winked at him before she had turned, “Would you like a little lunch, Leo?”

“It’s not necessary-”

“Oh would you stop it already!” Leo had sensed that arguing with Cristiano’s _mother_ would be no more successful that trying to argue with Cristiano himself. He had definitely known where his boyfriend had gotten it from. “Coffee? What kind? And is there something that you absolutely do not like?”

Trying to hide his smile, he had followed her into the kitchen, “A Latte Macchiato would be great and I’ll eat everything as long as it doesn’t have raisins or walnuts in it.”

Dolores had looked over her shoulder to smile at him and while she really had not been the person Leo had expected to see first, he had then been glad that she had been it after all. “Olha quem está aqui, Junior,” she had suddenly called out. “Olha quem veio aqui para surprender seu pai! Come and say hello to Leo, meu amor!”

His heart had positively soared when Junior had looked up from where he had been playing with a couple of colourful building blocks on the kitchen floor, had squealed and had discarded his toys to clamber onto his feet and to run up to him, “’Eo!”

While Leo’s eyes had pricked with tears, happy albeit slightly overwhelmed tears, of course, he had leaughed heartedly when he had gathered the toddler in his arms. The way that he had kissed Junior’s cheeks had made the boy giggle. “Since when can you say my name, niño? I’m so proud of you! Mírate, creciendo tan rápido.”

“’Eo! ‘Eo!” Junior had failed to properly pronounce the L since he had spoken around the pacifier in his mouth. Not that it had mattered to Leo in the slightest. He had kissed the toddler’s cheek once again and had wanted to set him back down, but Junior had wined and so he had comfortably settled him on his hip instead. The boy had continued to babble as Leo had walked over to where Dolores had been typing away at the display of the coffee machine. 

“Can I help you with anything, Señ-”

He had caught himself just in time and had smiled quite sheepishly when her eyes had been twinkling when she had looked at him. “I can already see why my son loves you so much, docinho.” Dolores’ smile had widened, and Leo had needed to look away. “No, there’s nothing that I _want_ you to help me with. I’m sure that you’re a bit tired from your journey, no?”

Leo had nodded, allowing her to return to her task by taking a figuratively step back, “I-I’ll bring my suitcase upstairs if that’s okay?”

“Sure thing, docino. I’ll let you know when you can come down to eat.”

“Thank you.”

“Ah, there’s no need to thank me and you better remember that.”

Leo had felt himself blushing a bit, “I’ll try.”

“Very good.”

They had both laughed and Leo had kissed Junior’s temple as he had walked to where Dolores had deposited his bags. He had been tempted to send Cristiano a selfie of him holding Junior with a funny little message, but the chance of getting to see his reaction in real had been far more tempting and so Leo had not gotten his phone out before he had shouldered his rucksack, had taken his suitcase and had ascended the stairs. Junior’s small fists had resumed to grasp onto the fabric of his shirt as if the boy had not wanted to let go of him at all. “Guess what I have for you?”, Leo had said with a hushed voice after he had rolled his suitcase into Cristiano’s bedroom. “Presents, niño!”

“Pwesent?”

“Yes, I bought them _just_ for you.” The toddler had squealed, obviously having understood what Leo had meant and he had laughed, combing his free hand through the boy’s curls. Maybe Cristiano had been right after all and Junior really had him wrapped around his little finger. “Wait a moment niño, I’ll get them.” That time, the boy had not made a fuss when Leo had set him down and he had felt Junior’s arms wrapping themselves around his legs while he had opened his rucksack, retrieving a few wrapped gifts. “Let’s unpack them downstairs, hm? Come here.” He had crouched down, had wrapped his free arm around the toddler and had rested Junior back on his hip within a second. The boy had made grabby hands at the presents, squirming in excitement.

Dolores had been mixing up a batter by the time that Leo had arrived in the kitchen again. She had laughed just as kind as she had done it before, “O que Leo tem para você, meu amor?”

“Da!”

“Yes, we’ll open them right away, niño.” Leo had sat down at the kitchen table, had placed the squirming toddler in his lap and had allowed Junior to grab the first of the presents. He had bought him a few more Spanish books, since Cristiano had told him multiple times about how good he had thought they were, a dinosaur-themed and age-appropriate puzzle as well as a dinosaur colouring book which Junior would probably only scribble in, given his young age.

“Olhe para todos aqueles presentes!”, Dolores had exclaimed, putting the whisk she had used to mix the batter with down into the sink. “Cristiano told me that you’re becoming a rival to me, Leo.”

Leo had been honestly embarrassed and he had averted his gaze to the table in front of him, his cheeks burning. “I’m not,” he had begun, clearing his throat. “I mean you’re still his grandma and I’m just trying to-” When Dolores had crossed the room to walk over to him, still smiling as ever, he had fallen silent and had accepted the coffee she had handed him with a whispered thank you.

For a few moments, Junior’s babbling had been the only sound throughout the kitchen. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and neither did Cristiano,” Dolores had said and had brought a hand to Leo’s shoulder, squeezing it softly. He may not have been able to look at her face, but he had easily heard her smile. “Did he tell you what he went through with Irina?”

Ignoring the twinge of jealousy that he had felt at the mention of the model’s name, he had taken a first, careful sip of his Latte Macchiato. It had been ridiculous; if there had been anyone who had been over his ex-girlfriend, it had been Cristiano. “Yeah,” he had answered, “he told me a bit about it.”

Dolores had patted his shoulder, “That’s why it’s so nice for us to see you act so naturally with Junior, docinho. You becoming a rival to my affection is what Cristiano wished for the most.” Junior had let out a squeal in his lap, having opened one of the picture books and Leo had unconsciously dropped his head to press a kiss into the toddler’s curls. “You two are good for each other. I can easily see that.”

“You can?” His voice had come out a lot more sheepish than he had wanted it to be and he had turned a bit in his chair to look up at her.

Dolores smile had been as kind as ever and she had nodded, only taking her hand away from his shoulder after having squeezed it once more. “He’s probably not going to like it that I’m telling you this but he’s always gushing when he shows me the pictures he took of you, telling me about how good your time together was. Cristiano really loved you, Leo.”

With that she had left his side again and had pulled a frying pan out of a drawer, setting it onto the stove. Leo had averted his attention back to the toddler in his lap, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he had absentmindedly combed his fingers through Junior’s hair while sipping at his Latte Macchiato. He had never really thought about how it would be to meet Cristiano’s mother as it had, except on Junior’s birthday, never really been a topid, but he he had no doubt that it had been important to Cristiano that he would get to know her. Leo had known that family had been very important to him, even before they had stopped pretending to be enemies.

“Da! ‘Eo, da!”

“What, niño? Do you want me to read it to you?”

“He can read to you after lunch, menino,” Dolores had interrupted from where she had been working at the stove and when Leo had looked up, he had seen her pouring a ladle-full of batter into the frying pan with a swiftfulness that had told of just how many times she must have done the exact same thing in her life. “Leo, would you be so kind and take the strawberries out of the fridge?”

“Yes, of course.” With Junior on his hip, Leo had stood and had walked over to the fridge, retrieving the bowl with already washed and quartered fruits. “Where...”

“Just put it onto the table. The pancakes will be done in a few minutes, docinho.” He had blushed a bit, not having expected her to pull through with the pet names but he would not ever have dreamed to complain about it, and had set the bowl down onto the table like she had told him to. Leo had proceeded to set the table on his own accord, which had earned him a playfully stern look, and had put Junior into his high chair just as Dolores had brought a plate stacked with pancakes over. “Sit down, sit down,” she had urged him and he had obeyed with a laugh. Dolores dos Santos Aveiro may have been an undeniably kind-hearted woman, though Leo had not been tempted to get her cross with him. She had walked around for a bit longer, getting whipped cream and fresh orange juice out of the fridge before she, too, had sat down. “It’s fat reduced,” Dolores had laughed when Leo had eyed it sceptically, reaching over the table to put a pancake onto Leo’s plate. “Eat.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll cook something proper for dinner, this is just a little lunch.”

“It’s more than enough.” It had not been a lie, Leo never would have expected Cristiano’s mother to bake pancakes for him on a whim.

Dolores had patted his forearm and had pushed the bowl of whipped cream over the table until it had stood in front of his plate before she had begun to cut a pancake and a few strawberries into manageable pieces for Junior. Leo had garnished his pancake with strawberries and a dollop of cream.“Would you like another coffee, docinho?” She had pointed at his empty Latte Macchiato glass.

“ _Yes_ , but I’ll get it for myself this time.” Leo had stood and while Dolores had shaken her head, she had not argued with him and had instead only set the plastic plate down onto the table of Junior’s high chair. He had found himself smiling quite ridiculously wide as had watched the coffee machine filling his glass. _If only he could see Cristiano now!_ “Dolores?”

“Yes?”

“Did Cris come home after training?”

Behind him, Dolores had chuckled, “No he didn’t, but I’m sure that nothing dramatic happened.”

Junior had grinned at him when Leo had sat back down. He had winked at the toddler, “I wonder just where your Pai is, niño. I’d really like to surprise him just now.”

The boy had giggled in return, so as if he had actually understood what Leo had meant, and had pierced a piece of strawberry that Dolores had cut for him, though only to take if off and plop it into his mouth with his fingers instead. Lunch had gone by harmoniously; Dolores had asked him a few questions, about how his week had been and for how long he had wanted to stay in Madrid, and Leo had asked her a few casual questions in return. She had made it very clear that she had not wanted Leo’s help with the dishes either, and Leo had merely laughed and had stated that he would no longer try to persuade her into allowing him to help as she had shooed him out of the kitchen.

Leo had set the squirming toddler down, who had instantly run off to the living room, and he had followed him, smiling at the way that Junior’s curls bounced. He truly had been the cutest kid. “Do you want me to read to you now, niño?”

“No.” A bit surprised by the answer, he had stopped in his tracks and had watched how Junior had went straight for the box of toys that had stood by the couch to rummage through it. “Da! ‘Eo, da!”

Leo had laughed out loud and had set the presents he had bought aside onto the coffee table, wishing that he would have had his phone on him to take a photo of how Junior had been holding the small Barça football up. While he had not really believed that Cristiano had gotten rid of the presents that he had gotten Junior for his second birthday, it had been good to see that they had still been there. “Would you like to play with the ball?”

“Yes!” The boy had thrown the ball into his direction and it had been quite adorable to see how it had not stayed in the air for more than maybe a second before it had bounced off the floor.

“Okay niño, but not in here.” If they would play ball, the living room would definitely not be the perfect location for that. Hoisting Junior up with his free arm, Leo had opened the patio door. He had squinted a bit at the brightness of the midday sun and had kissed the toddler’s chubby cheeks as he had taken the few steps down the terrace with ease. The toddler had squealed in delight when he had been put down into the grass; Leo had made sure that they had been as far away from the pool as possible. “Already like your Pai, huh? Happy as long as you’re on the grass.”

“’Eeeeeeo, da!”

“Yeah yeah, no need to get so impatient now,” Leo had snorted and he had spun the ball around once, as if he had been preparing for the final penalty shot, before he had kicked it into Junior’s direction with barely enough force for the ball to reach him. The toddler had squealed and had tried to kick it back, though had lost his balance and had plopped down onto his backside instead. Leo had winced, expected to hear a cry, but Junior had merely looked at the ball, a bit stunned, for a second before he had clambered back onto his feet. He had managed to kick the ball at the second attempt and Leo had cheered. “Well done, niño! Good job!” The boy had clapped his hands together and had seemed so pleased with himself that Leo’s heart had doubled in size.

༻✦༺

Dolores had been rinsing the pan she had used to make the pancakes when she had perceived the sound of a car driving onto the driveway. She had known that it had been her son before she had even thrown a look out of the kitchen window and had spotted the sleek black sports car slowly coming to a halt in front of the garage. Smiling to herself, she had turned off the faucet and had set the pan down into the sink to try her hands. In truth, she had been no less excited to see how Cristiano would react to the surprise visit of his boyfriend than Leo had been. Even if the young Argentine would not have been so utterly lovable, she would have been happy for her son. And her grandson as well. They had both deserved someone like Leo in their life. Dolores had tried tried to keep her smile from turning into a full-blown grin when she had peaked out of the kitchen just as her son had unlocked the front door. “Já era hora de você estar aqui.”

He had shot her an apologetic smile and had set his gym bag down, “Desculpe, Mãe.” Cristiano had kissed his mother’s cheek, “O treinamento demorou um pouco mais.”

“Are you hungry, menino?”

“Not really, no. I had a protein shake on the way.”

“I made pancakes for Junior and-” Dolores had cleared her throat, “Well, there are a few left over.”

“Maybe later, Mãe.”

She had watched how her son had run a weary hand over his face and had retrieved his phone from the pocket of his shorts. The crease between his brows had told her that something had not been right. “What is it?”

Cristiano had sighed, “Leo still didn’t text me.”

He had casually mentioned his boyfriend’s holiday to her and so Dolores would not revel herself newly gained knowledge. “He’s in Florence, no?”

“Yes,” her son had replied rather curtly, the muscles of his jaw clenching.

She had taken him by the arm. “Come, drink something.” Cristiano had stayed silent when she had lef him to his kitchen, but had thanked her with a smile after she had filled a glass of water for him. He had seemed lost in his thoughts when he had sipped the water. “I can _see_ you thinking, Cristiano. Will you tell me what’s going on?”

Cristiano had sighed and had set both the glass and his phone down, “Leo and I, it’s just...”

“You’re not thinking about breaking up with him, are you?” If she had sounded a bit panicked, it had been unintentionally.

He had looked at her incredulously, “ _What?_ No, I’d never do that! Qualquer coisa menos isso!” He had sighed again, “I miss him, Mãe.” The tone of his voice had reminded her of when he had been a little boy and had confessed to having taken money out of her wallet. “I know that it’s not possible for us to share a life like a,” Cristiano had made quotation marks into the air, “normal couple, but _fuck_ , I miss him. I just wish that I’d be able to fall asleep with him in my arms every night.” Dolores had tilted her head, simply listening. She had sensed that her son had needed to get it off his chest. “And I know that it’s damn selfish for me to think like that because I don’t want to be the type of man who forbids their boyfriend to spend time with his friends, but...” The muscles of his jaws had clenched once. “I would’ve preferred it it he would’ve... come to me instead of flying to Florence with _Neymar_.”

Dolores had pretended to straighten a tea towel out, simply because she had failed to keep her grin down. Young love had been quite an adorable think to watch, even if it had reminded her of José in a painful way. “It’s a bit selfish, but it’s normal, meu amor. You love him and you want to be with him, that’s how it is.”

Cristiano had smiled undeniably dreamily and had reached for his glass to empty it, “Where’s Junior?”

 _Ah, there it had been._ “Playing ball in the garden.”

“Alone?” Cristiano’s smile had vanished and Dolores had felt a bit guilty at the look of fear it had been replaced with. “How could you do that! Mãe, the pool doesn’t have any security fencing yet!” She had not even tried to keep up with her son when he had stormed off.

Cristiano had felt as it he had been about to faint, his mind filled with images that would haunt him in his worst nightmares. _Junior, floating in the pool, his face pale and lips discoloured an unnatural shade of blue-_ “Junior! Vem cá, estou aqui!”, he had called out before he had even reached the living room, but a tidalwave of relief had swept over him when he had perceived the sound of his son’s laughter and he had taken a moment to collect himself. He had only moved to slide the patio door open after his heart had calmed a bit, though had frozen when he had caught the first sight of his son.

༻✦༺

Leo had just caught the ball that Junior had kicked back at him when he had heard the patio door being opened and he had already known that it had been Cristiano who had done so before he had even turned his head. His face had been split by a grin at the way that his boyfriend had been standing in the opened door, looking at him as if he had grown a second head and he had made sure to take Junior by the hand, minding the nearby pool. “Look who finally came home, niño.”

“Paaai!”

Leo had not really known what he had expected, maybe a movie-worthy gasp of his name, but he had not expected Cristiano to ignore his whining son, to wrap his arms around him hard enough to make him gasp and to pull him into a heated kiss. “You’re unbelievable,” Cristiano had growled into the kiss, catching Leo’s bottom lip between his teeth. “Letting me think that you’re travelling with Neymar.”

Leo had brought his hands up to cup them against the back of the taller man’s head. “I’m _so so sorry_. Will you _ever_ forgive me?” Cristiano had rolled his eyes before he had kissed him, less heated but just as demanding. When his ass had been squeezed rather harshly, Leo’s face had turned a bright shade of red - he had been hyperaware of the presence of both Junior and Dolores. “Cris-” His boyfriend had abandoned his lips to bury his face in the crook of his neck instead, tightening his arms around Leo’s waist and muttering something that Leo had not understood. Leo had snorted and had caressed the short hairs in the back of Cristiano’s neck.

The moment had been interrupted by Dolores, who had been struggling with a squirming and whining Junior in her arms. “Cristiano, allow your boyfriend to breathe and take your son.”

Cristiano had, once more, muttered something incoherent but had eventually eased his hold on the smaller man and had taken Junior, who had ceased to whine once he had been in his father’s arms. “Como tem passado, meu amor? Você foi bom?”

The toddler had nodded and had rested his head on his father’s shoulder, though his gaze had seemed to have been firmly fixed on Leo. “’Eo?” Leo simply had to laugh at the look of mock consternation which had flashed over his boyfriend’s face when Junior had shifted in Cristiano’s arms and had reached out for him instead, making grabby hands and pouting around his pacifier. “’Eo, ‘Eo da!”

“Come here, niño,” Leo had said with a soft laugh, stepping closer to take Junior into his arms. “Do you want to play ball again?”

“Yes!”

He had kissed the boy’s chubby cheek, “Alright then.”

“Bebê-”

“You can play with us if you want to,” he had chirped and a grin had grown on his face when Cristiano had shot him a devastating, albeit harmless look.

“You do that,” Dolores had interrupted, giving her son a little push as Leo had turned towards the terrace’s stairs.

He had squeaked at the rather sharp smack that had been delivered to his backside. “Ow, Cris!” Cristiano’s arm had sneaked around his waist and had drawn him close against the taller man and he had blushed due to the fact that his backside had actually tingled from the force of the smack as Cristiano had kissed his temple.

“You’re such a brat. Why the hell did you lie about... You know how I feel about you and him, Leo.”

“What? Like you lied about how you wouldn’t be able to visit me on my birthday, hm?”

“Cale-se.” They had both chuckled and when Cristiano’s hand had come in touch with Leo’s backside again, it had been a caressing gesture. Leo had smiled at the words that had been whispered into his ear, “I missed you, bebê,” and had been followed by a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad that you decided to come and visit me.” He had turned his head so that he and Cristiano had been able to kiss properly, and he had sighed at the way when his boyfriend had, as always, gained the upper hand in the kiss and had teased Leo’s bottom lip with his teeth. They had parted before it could have deepened any further and Leo had set Junior down, watching how the toddler had instantly run over to where his ball had been lying discarded. “Come here,” Cristiano had laughed, cupping Leo’s face to kiss him again and Leo had felt Cristiano smiling against his lips.

It had been mind-boggling that there had once been a time where being pulled flush against the taller man had not felt like a normalcy. “So I guess that my surprise was a success...?”

The Portuguese had snorted, combing a hand through his hair, “I certainly rather know you safe by my side that somewhere on a trip with Neymar.”

Leo’s smile had faltered a bit, “Cris, he’s been with James for a while now. Don’t you think that it’s-”

“I just don’t want his hands all over you,” Cristiano had cut him off, dropping a peck onto his lips. “Especially when I can’t prevent it or replace them with mine. Não quero que ele toque o que é meu.”

His boyfriend had let go of him then, which had been a wise decision as Junior had begun to call out his name in an endless loop, “’Eeeeo! ‘Eeeeo! ‘Eeeeo!”

“Okay niño. okay. I just needed to make sure that your old pai isn’t too tired to play with us.”

One of Cristiano’s perfectly plucked eyebrows had raised slowly while his lips had turned into a smirk. “Why are you being such a brat today? Do you need a... _spanking?_ ” Leo had full-on squealed and his face had burned up from sheer embarrasment as he had looked at the Portuguese, who had thrown his head back to laugh at his own antics. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you blush like that. God, you’re so adorable, Leo.”

Leo had grumbled a string of Spanish curses to himself in response and had decided that he would simply ignore the remark, instead accepting the ball that Junior had held out for him. “Good, come on.” He had cleared his throat and had positioned himself so that the pool had been behind him - he could not have helped but feal uneasy at the prospect of the toddler being so close to the water, watching how Junior had run off and had squealed as he had run off to where he had stood during their last game.

If he would have looked at Cristiano, he would have noticed the uncertainty that had replaced the smirk on his boyfriend’s face. “Leo?” After he had once more ignored him, Cristiano had stepped closer and had put an arm around his waist. “I’m sorry, I... thought that was funny. Don’t be mad.” Leo had hummed, his eyes fixed on Junior, who had apparently learned to position the ball. “And please don’t give me the silent treatment bebê...”

“I’m not,” he had said with a roll of his eyes; he had not forgotten about how badly Cristiano had been with handling his silence, though he yet had to find out about the reason for it. “You’re just disturbing my concentration right now, Cris.”

“’Eo!”

“And your son is just as impatient as you are.”

Cristiano had seemed honestly relieved and had moved away after having kissed Leo’s cheek, positioning him so they had stood in a triangle formation, “Well, he is _my_ son after all.”

“With an undeniable taste for my football as it seems.” To underline what he had said, Leo had kicked the ball into Junior’s direction and the toddler had giggled, crouching down to pick the ball up. He had grinned when Cristiano had groaned.

“Junior, that’s not how it’s done-”

“Marc-André would love to work with you, niño. You’d surely make an awesome goalkeeper!”

“Não dê ouvidos a ele. Venha, passe a bola para mim.” Junior had giggled and had actually grinned at his father as he had kicked the small football back to Leo, who had nearly doubled up laughing.

“Good job!” He had mercy on Cristiano, though, and had passed the ball over to him. The way that Cristiano had tried to act mad while his lips had repeatedly curled into a smile had tugged at the strings of Leo’s heart and he had wondered whether the Portuguese would truly ever get mad at him on the pitch again. Considering that Sergio and Gerard had still fought each other like they had done it back in the days... 

He had been so lost in his thoughts that he had been a bit surprised when the football had hit him square in the chest with a surprisingly good amount of force behind it. “Oh no, look at that, menino. Leo didn’t quite manage to catch this one, did he now?”

Leo had stared at his grinning boyfriend in disbelief before he had played along, holding a hand against the spot of his chest the ball had smacked against as if it had hurt and had stumbled backwards to drop down onto the law. “Medic,” he had gasped, “I think I need a med-oof!” The air had been knocked from his lungs when Junior had jumped on top of him with a squeal of delight and Leo had closed his arms around him in response, successfully locking the giggling toddler in place. “Got you, niño!” There had been a few times in Leo’s life when a moment had just seemed to have been too good, too perfect to be real and when he had laid there, sprawled out in the grass of Cristiano’s garden with the cloudless sky above him and Junior nestling against his chest, it had been just one of those moments. He never would have dreamed about this. Squinting against the blinding sunlight, he had blindly felt for Junior’s head of curls and he had smiled when the toddler had cooed.

There had suddenly been a shadow above them though instead of the cloud Leo had thought it had been, Cristiano had smirked down at him. The older man’s smile had been one of the kind that Leo had, in the past but only on the pitch, often wanted to wipe off the older man’s face with a good hard kick between his legs. He had snorted at the memory. Cristiano had cocked an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” Before Leo could have answered, his boyfriend had leaned down and had kissed him, teasing him with a hint of his tongue until he had whimpered. Cristiano’s smirk had still been there when he had pulled back and he had looked so utterly pleased with himself that Leo had to roll his eyes. “Ha, I always knew that you have a talent when it comes to acting.”

Junior had babbled something incoherent, starting to push himself into a sitting position with his little hands planted on Leo’s chest. Leo had winked, “Yes, especially so when you’re giving your all and it’s still not enough,” he had lowered his voice, “to please me.” Chortling at how Cristiano’s smirk had faltered he had sat up, stealing a quick kiss from his boyfriend before he had clambered onto his feet and had put Junior down. He had shaken his head when he had realised that Cristiano had made no move to rise from his crouched position and stop glaring daggers at him as if his pride had honestly been hurt. “Come on.” Leo had held out a hand, “You know that I didn’t mean it, Cris.”

“Você estava gritando meu nome, pare de jogar,” Cristiano had replied rather smugly, jumping to his feet to snatch the ball from Leo, ignoring the sound of protest the younger man had made. “Let me show you how it’s done, bebê.” Junior had seemed wholeheartedly excited that both Leo and his pai had been willing to play ball with him, but it had not been long until he had begun to drag his feet and blink sluggishly. The toddler had whined softly when his father had picked him up after he had stumbled over his own feet. “Someone’s ready for their nap, mh?”, Cristiano had said with a low voice, smiling when his son had dropped his head onto his shoulder and had whined again. “Está bem, meu amor, está bem.”

Cocking his head into the direction of the house, Cristiano had waited until Leo had nodded before he had walked off and Leo had picked up the ball in order to follow after his boyfriend. He had been a bit surprised to see Dolores sitting on the couch and watching the news, though he had not even considered to ask about why she had not left yet when there had been no apparent reason for her to stay. “It’s time for Junior’s nap, no?”

“Yes.” Cristiano had nodded, “I’ll get him something to drink and put him down.”

Mother and son had talked for a moment longer and Leo had stood by a bit awkward, eventually clearing his throat and the ball back into the box of toys once Cristiano had disappeared out of sight with a promise that he would not take too long. “Leo?” Dolores had turned on the couch to look at him, “Would you be alright with giving me your phone number? Now that I finally got to meet you in person.”

Leo had mustered another smile, “Sure,” and had leaned over to accept the phone that Cristiano’s mother had motioned to hand him. He had quickly typed his number in, saving it under _Leo M._ before he had given the phone back to Dolores.

“Thank you,” she had said, smiling at him. “Well, I better get going now.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I told you that I need to go grocery shopping for dinner, docinho. I won’t be gone for long,” Dolores had laughed, patting his cheek before she had walked off and Leo had heard the front door falling shut soon after. If he would have been honest, he would have needed to admit that it would probably take him a while to not be embarrassed by Dolores treating him so kindly. Without anything else do to, he had picked up the cup that Cristiano’s mother had left on the coffee table and had moved to the kitchen to put it into the dishwasher, putting away the clean dishes, which Dolores had set aside to dry, in the same go.

“Mãe?” Leo had just picked up a stack of plates when Cristiano had peaked into the kitchen. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah,” he had laughed, “sorry for the disappointment.”

Cristiano had watched him how he had put the plates into their designated place in the cupboard, and his boyfriend had slowly approached him after Leo had leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. He had felt a hot flush shooting through him when a smirk had grown on Cristiano’s face. “I guess that my mother’s gone? Because I know for a fact that she’ll never allow you to help in the kitchen,” the older man had purred, pulling him away from the counter to close his arms around him.

“She said that she needed to do some shopping for din-” The moan that had escaped him when Cristiano had begun to kiss, nibble and suck on a spot low on his neck had left him unable to speak. A thigh had slowly pushed its way between his legs and his hips had canted towards Cristiano when both of the Portuguese’s hands had come to rest on his ass, squeezing the soft flesh while Cristiano had continued to suck a love bite into his skin. With a moan of his name, Leo had brought his hands up to hold onto Cristiano’s biceps. “What a- _ah_ -about Junior?”

Cristiano had laughed out against his neck. “You’re always so concerned, bebê,” he had breathed as he had teasted the spot he had been sucking on with his teeth and had pulled Leo impossibly closer against him. “He was asleep before I even put him down.”

“Your mother-”

One of Cristiano’s hands had stayed on Leo’s ass while the other had moved up the curve of his back and had found its way into his hair, gently using the hold on it to tilt Leo’s head back in a way that had the younger man whimpering and his cock twitching. “She’ll be gone for a while.” Cristiano had kissed him, instantly working his tongue past Leo’s lips to claim the upper hand before it had even properly begun. It had just been so natural, for Cristiano to set the pace and for Leo to follow. He had been left gasping when he had suddenly been heaved onto the counter and he had crossed his ankles behind Cristiano’s back, allowing himself to be kissed in a way that had caused his mind to reel. “You know,” Cristiano had muttered between two kisses, squeezing Leo’s waist as he had done so, “I might get used to constantly having you around me.”

The laugh Leo had wanted to let out had been silenced by another kiss. When he had pulled back, his gaze had lewdly dropped from Cristiano’s eyes to his lips, “And that would be a problem because...?”

His boyfriend had laughed, a baritone sound that had send a shiver down Leo’s back, and had squeezed his waist a bit harder while he had leaned in to brush his lips over Leo’s. “Because I’ll miss you even more I can’t promise that I won’t snap and be all over you during the next Clásico.” He had whimpered, his cock then fully alive and straining against his trousers, when Cristiano’s words had been followed by another kiss. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The older man had arranged the strain in his own trousers before he had squeezed Leo through his pants. “To let them all know that you’re mine, bebê? For the whole world to known that _little_ Leo Messi belongs to the _great_ Cristiano Ronaldo, hm?”

Leo had shuffled closer to the edge of the counter when he had felt one of Cristiano’s hands at the fly of his trousers, “Cris-”

“I’ll never grow tired of hearing you say my name like that.” His cock had been squeezed through his underwear and he had whimpered, digging his fingers into the muscles of Cristiano’s upper arms. “What was that, bebê?”

“Cristiano...” Leo had had moved his hands away from his boyfriend’s arms to his chest, feeling the definded muscles there before he had allowed them to wander further down and under Cristiano’s shirt, tracing the prominent V. He had just hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of his boyfriend’s trousers and had gotten to feel the first hint of Cristiano’s throbbing erection when he had perceived a sound that had alarmed him. Cristiano, on the other hand, had not seemed to have heard it, as he had continued to massage him while kissing random spots on his neck and the dip of his collar bone. There, he had heard it again. “Cris, wait-”

“Bebê-”

“Cris, I mean it! Stop!”

Cristiano had pulled back fast enough that it could have resulted in whiplash for him. His eyes had been wide and the worry in them had been enough to tug at the strings of Leo’s heart. “Leo, bebê, what’s wrong?”

“I heard something, I...” The older man’s brows had furrowed as he had tried to perceive whatever it had been that Leo had heard, and he had dropped his head onto Leo’s shoulder with a groan when he had caught it as well. “Cris?”

“Junior’s awake.”

“Oh.” Leo had blushed and had withdrawn his legs from around Cristiano’s waist as if he had been burned, jumping off the counter to fix his trousers.

The Portuguese had watched him with gentle eyes, stepping closer to cup Leo’s face and kiss him briefly. “Relax, bebê. Nothing happened and you look like you’re about to faint.” Cristiano had kissed him again and had jogged off before Leo could have answered and he had leaned his head back into his neck, sighing deeply. Thank God it had not been Dolores. “This little man right here,” Cristiano had said, appearing in the kitchen a few moments later and bouncing a giggling Junior on his hip, “apparently needed nothing more than a quick power nap.” He had held Junior’s empty bottle in his free hand, “And learned to bang his empty bottle against the crib to show that he’s awake.” Junior had squealed when his father had kissed his cheek. “Eu sempre soube que você era um garoto inteligente, menino.”

“’Eo?”

Cristiano had laughed and had shaken his head once, “Yeah, Leo’s still here. Look.” Leo had held his arms out and the toddler had squealed as he had leaned over to signal that he had wanted to be taken, cooing once he had been settled on Leo’s hip. He had combed a hand through Junior’s curls, having since forgotten that he had been mad about Cris’ and his moment having been interrupted. “Está com fome?”, Cristiano had asked, putting a hand onto his son’s back. Junior had nodded and had spit out his pacifier, causing it to fall to the floor with a _clack_ and given how the boy had giggled, he had been very pleased with himself. As opposed to his father. “Don’t do that,” Cristiano had scolded, bending down with a sigh to pick it up and set it aside before he had walked to the fridge, opening it and retrieving a small Tupperware bowl. “It’s applesauce,” the Portuguese had explained before Leo even had the chance to ask about it. He had set the bowl as well as a spoon down onto the counter.

“Can I feed him?”, it had blurted out of Leo and while his cheeks had still been a bit rosy, he had not felt embarrassed.

“Of course, bebê. You don’t have to ask.” 

Leo had known the nature behind Cristiano’s smile, had known just why his eyes had sparkled like that and he had made sure to smile back at him as he had sput Junior down onto the counter. He had kept his left hand on the toddler’s legs to ensure that he would not accidentally fall off. “Da!” Junior had made grabby hands at the bowl when Leo had taken it and had moved to stand in front of him. “’Eo, da!”

“Yeah, it’s applesauce, niño. You like that, huh?” He had offered the plastic spoon to the toddler, who had eagerly grabbed it. “Don’t hurry, you’ll only end up making a mess of yourself!” Leo had not stopped smiling as he had watched how Junior had enjoyed his post-nap snack. His knees, however, had nearly given out from underneath him when Cristiano had suddenly pressed down at the mark he had left behind on his neck. “Cris,” he had gasped, cupping the had that had not been holding Junior’s bowl over the hickey. “Don’t do that!”

Cristiano had laughed, seeming rather satisfied with himself, “There’s no way that you’ll be able to hide it from my mãe.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter took so long to finish and if it's kinda bad, I was hit with a minor writer's block and I really had to bite my way through this *sigh*, so I hope it's not as terrible as I think it is ^^
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Thursday, 03. September 2015.** _

Leo had busied himself in his kitchen that evening, precooking his lunch for the next day. The music had been turned up high and he had absentmindedly moved his hips to the rhythm of it while he had cut onions into small pieces in order to add them to the mix of vegetables he had already prepared before. His mood had not once come down ever since he had arrived back in Barcelona after having spend four days with Cristiano, Junior and Dolores. 

He had flourished in the nights that he had gotten to fall asleep in Cristiano’s arms, the mornings on which he had been gently woken up by Cristiano stroking his hair and the carefree time that they had spend together. Whether it had been breakfast, playtime with Junior or when Cris and him had worked out together while Junior had been playing in the playpen, it had just... felt so much more domestic than it had ever been with Antonella and Leo had never wanted to be without it again. Taking care of Junior while Cristiano had been gone for training, sitting down for a coffee and a talk with Dolores after Junior had been put down for his nap and cooking dinner for them all had been wonderful. 

The knowledge that he could not possibly live it as often as he would have liked to had been a bit sobering, but Leo had felt comforted by the certainty that he would at least have some of it after the next Clásico. While there had not been a need to, Cristiano had vehemently tried to convince him not to book a hotel room and instead come to his house after the game. “Junior would love to see you,” Cristiano had said when he had been halfway draped over Leo after they had slept with each other. “I would love to see you. And not just in a hotel room, bebê. I want you _here_.” Leo had retorted by voicing out his worry about the press, as there would be no way that they would not get bombarded by ruthless paparazzi, considering the nature of the game, but his boyfriend had silenced him with a kiss and a promise that he and his management would handle it if something should go wrong. “You worry too much, bebê,” Cristiano had chuckled, directing one of his million dollar smiles at him. They had never failed to make him weak. “It will be _fine.”_

Leo had laughed to himself at the memory as he had finished dicing the last batch of onions and had set the knife aside to put the frying pan onto the stove, adding a dash of oil. He had hummed to the music as he had waited for the oil to heat up enough for the vegetables to be added and he had tried not to think about how Cristiano and him probably would not get around to see each other for more than two months. It had been times like these which had made him hate their professions. The next weeks, _months_ until the Clásico would be tough and neither of them would probably manage to free up enough space to travel, but they would manage to go through it. He no longer had any doubts about that.

He had fried the onions, bell peppers and carrots he had all cut into small dices, trying not to think about how Junior would have been tugging at his trousers by then before he would have reached up with grabby hands in a silent demand to be picked up. Leo had since grown to love the boy as if he had been his own son, and Cristiano had known that he never could have forced him to think so, considering that it had not worked like that with Irina. He had caught himself smiling and Leo had snorted, shaking his head once. Neymar had been right, he had really fallen head over heals in love with the new life which he had lived ever since he had allowed Cristiano to _take him somewhere more private to talk._

The Argentine had just set the pot with the potatoes onto the stove and had turned on the heat when his phone had ringed over the bluetooth speakers, making him flinch. Leo had crossed the room to pick up his phone from where he had set it aside on the kitchen table and had smiled when he had seen Cristiano’s name on the screen. His smile had grown into a grin, and his heart had positively fluttered as he had hurried to answer the call.

Cristiano’s face had practically lit up the screen, “Hey bebê, can you talk?”

“Yeah I can, what is it?”

The Portuguese had hummed, apparently satisfied with the answer he had gotten, “Nothing, I just really wanted to see your pretty face right now. What are you doing?”

“Meal prep,” Leo had said, tilting his phone and stepping aside so that Cristiano could have caught a glimpse of the stove behind him. “You?”

Cristiano had shifted and it had been only then Leo had noticed that he had been sitting on the couch in the living room, “Ser and James just left, they came over and we played FIFA.”

He had snorted and had shaken his head in disbelief, “You really play that game?” Sure, the game had not been all that bad but Leo sometimes had a hard time believing that the entire Real squad would meet up on Fridays to play football on a console after hours of training.

His boyfriend had cocked a single eyebrow at him, “Of course. I’m in it, bebê.”

“So? I am, too.”

“Oh I know.” Cristiano had smirked, “We beat Barça _11-0_ in the last round.”

Laughing, Leo had walked back over to the stove to regular the heat that the vegetables had been simmering with, “Well and we beat you 2-1 in the last Clásico and if you’d only show that kind of talent in the next one...”

“ _What?_ ”

“I mean it was no real surprise that _we_ won but you should really step up your game in November, Cristiano. Three losses in a row would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it?” He had bitten his lip as he had deliberately kept his gaze on the stove, and he had felt his face heating up when Cristiano had silently glared at him through the screen. Leo had stifled a laugh at the tale-telling sound of Junior playing and happily babbling in the background.

“You surprise me sometimes, Leo. You’re always so mouthy whenever we talk on the phone but as soon as I see you in person you become all blushing and stuttering and refusing to look my in the eyes.” Cristiano had let out a snort, “Even my mother noticed it, bebê.” _Fuck._ Leo had titled his phone further so that merely his forehead had been visible for his boyfriend. “Don’t worry, she think you’re so adorable and you know that I love it.” He had not answered, had merely continued to stir the sauce even though there had been no real need for him to do so. “Bebê?”

“Yes?” he had said after having cleared his throat.

“You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m working at the stove so of course-”

“Leo,” Cristiano had drawled out with a sing-song voice, “show me your pretty face and prove that it’s not a cute shade of pink right now.”

The younger man had closed his eyes for a second, had sighed and had brought his face back into Cristiano’s sight. His boyfriend’s teasing may have been a bit much sometimes, but he had loved him too much to be honestly cross with him. He had eventually given in, “Happy now?”

Cristiano’s grin had since turned into a smile and Leo’s heart had fluttered when he had noticed how the Portuguese’s eyes must had been roaming over his face on the screen, “Deus, você é tão adorável bebê. Às vezes ainda não consigo acreditar que você é realmente meu.” He had made a halfhearted attempt to roll his eyes, since he had been actually touched by the words that he had not understood. The nature of them had been clear, if it would not have been, the smile on Cristiano’s face would have revealed it all. The older man had yawned and had closed his eyes for a second as he had leaned back.

“I miss you, Cristiano.”

“You should do that more often, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Surprise me when I come home from training, make it possible for me to wake up next to you,” Cristiano’s smile had once more been blinding, “watch Junior so that my mother doesn’t have to, cook us dinner...”

Leo had huffed a laugh, “Are you asking me to retire, move to Madrid and become your housewife?” They had both laughed at that.

“Would you do it, hm?”

“I’m sorry old man, but I’m still pretty much in my prime and while I love Junior, he has to wait at least ten more years until I can be there for him as a full-time babysitter.” He knows just how much it had meant to Cristiano if he would say, and mean, something like that and to be fair, retiring from football to live his life with a little family had not been that bad of a future. Far from it, actually.

“Old man? Bebê I’m-”

“Thirty, yes.” Leo had accompanied his words with a wink, as he had not been all that serious. Cristiano had still glared at him for a second. “But don’t worry, you make thirty look really good, Cristiano.”

The Portuguese had let out an indefinable sound that could have been indignation, “I hope so. And you’re only two years behind me, bebe,” and had snorted a laugh. “Anyway, how was your day? Everything okay?”

“Mhm, everything went fine.”

“Training too?”

“Why, do you want to assess how good your chances will be?”

“Eu te amo, mas você está me dando nos nervos às vezes, bebê.”

“What?”

“Yeah, wouldn’t you like to know, huh?”

Leo had rolled his eyes for good that time and had set the wooden spoon aside, making sure that the potatoes had been boiling at the correct heat, “How was your day? How’s Junior?”

“My day was okay, bebê, nothing worth mentioning. And Junior’s fine. He’s missing you just as much as I do.”

He had sucked his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, “He does?”

Cristiano’s smile had widened, “Yeah, he’s beginning to ask for you. My mother send me a video of it today and,” he had moved a hand through his hair, which had not been styled to perfection for once. “God, it’s so adorable. I’m going to send it to you later, bebê. She wanted to wake him up from his nap but she caught him calling out for you.”

“Paaai!”

Leo had heard Junior calling out in the background, but Cristiano had swiftly ignored it. “I swear to God, seeing my son missing you makes it only worse for me, Leo. E eu já sinto tanto a sua falta.” Cristiano had said it with a voice which had been barely above a whisper, so as if he had been ashamed of his confession. “And I know that-” The older man had been interrupted by a rather sharp cry and Leo had heard a string of Portugese curses slipping from Cristiano’s lip as he set his phone down so all that Leo had been left with had been a view of the ceiling. “Wait a second, bebê.” He had listened how Cristiano had stood up from the couch with yet another curse and how Junior’s petulant cries had ceased a second later. Leo had smiled to himself at the way that Cristiano had talked to his son.

“ _Paaai!_ ”

“Junior, não! Quantas vezes eu tenho que lhe dizer que você tem que esperar!”

“Cris, are you seriously trying to argue with a two-year-old right now?”

“Well said _two-year-old_ nearly kicked my iPhone off the couch!”

“I know that you could buy ten new ones in a second.”

Cristiano had laughed and had picked his phone up again, “Yes but that’s not the point and you know it, Leo.”

“’Eo?”

His smile had widened when he had seen Junior, who had then been sitting on his father’s lap and had held his Barça teddy in his arms. “Hey niño.” The toddler had smiled around his pacifier and Cristiano had tried to remove it, probably so that he would be able to speak properly, but Junior had whined and had batted his father’s hand away. Lowering the heat that the sauce had been simmering with, Leo had moved to sit down at his kitchen table. That the room had suddenly seemed empty, he had tried to ignore.

“’Eo!”

“Yeah I miss you too, Junior.”

Cristiano had kissed the top of his son’s head, “We miss you more, bebê.”

“’Eo! Da, ‘Eo!”

“Do you remember what I thought you before I left, niño?” Leo had chirped, grinning at the confusing look he had received from his boyfriend. “Come on, niño. Vi...”

Junior had squealed and had clapped his hands without letting go fo his teddy bear, “Vis-a Ba-sa!” The pronunciation had been off, of course, as Junior had been all but two years old and speaking around his pacifier, but it had been clear enough. Cristiano’s shocked shout of his name had nearly been overpowered by Junior’s giggling, “Vis-a Ba-sa, Vis-a Ba-sa, Vis-a Ba-sa!”

“Bebê,” Cristiano had growled, holding his hand over his son’s mouth to muffle him. It had only made the toddler giggle harder.

“Yes?” Leo had retorted in the most angelic way he could have mustered, deliberately biting his lip.

“ _How dare you?_ This is all your fault!”

“Mh, I love you too.”

Cristiano had removed his hand from Junior’s face and had let out an honestly devastated groan when his toddler son had resumed his chanting, “Vis-a Ba-sa, Vis-a Ba-sa! ‘Eo, da! Vis-a Ba-sa!”

“Good job,” Leo had laughed, “I’m really proud of you, niño!” The boy had babbled something incoherent and had leaned back to rest against his father’s chest, his eyes fixed on the screen and Leo had wanted to do nothing more in that moment than to be able to hold him. “Don’t forget about me, okay? I might not see you for a while but-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cristiano had interrupted him, but his eyes had been soft when he had looked at Leo in disapprovement. “He won’t forget about you, bebê. He hasn’t before and I’ll make sure that he won’t do so now.” Leo had sighed a bit wearily and had stood to check on his food. The sauce had been done, so he had turned off the heat and had set it aside, but the potatoes had needed another ten minutes or so.

“’Eo?”

He had managed to smile, despite how heavy his heart had been, “Yeah, niño?”

“Da!” Junior had held out his teddy, so as if he had wanted Leo to take it, and that had pretty much been it.

Leo’s vision had grown blurry, but he had made sure that his smile had not faltered, “That-That’s your favourite teddy, isn’t it? I made a good choice buying it for you.”

The toddler had nodded and had pulled the stuffed animal back, securely wrapping his arms around it once more. Cristiano had combed his fingers through Junior’s curls and if Leo would have taken a closer look, he would have seen that Cristiano’s eyes had been shining with tears as well. “Não estamos completos sem Leo, não estamos? Ele pertence a nós,” the older man had muttered into his son’s hair. “Não está certo quando ele não está aqui, hm?”

It had been then that Leo had realised that what Cristiano had been right with what he had told him. _The more I see you the more I actually miss you_. “We’re so bad,” he had sniffled, “acting like we didn’t see each other in six months.”

“That’s what it feels like,” Cristiano had retorted, “and since I know that I probably won’t get to see you until November...”

“Yeah...”

“But we’ll manage, Leo. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope that we will,” Leo had muttered and had ducked his head to wipe at his eyes without it being seen.

“We have to, there’s no way that my mother will allow me to let you go.”

He had laughed, “I mean I like your mother so much that I’d come to Madrid to have a coffee with her and bring my new partner along...”

“Oh não! I’d hire Ser to beat up any new _partner_ of yours.”

“I better remember that then.”

“There’s no need for that because there’s no way that I’ll let you go, bebê. Sorry to say it but you’re pretty much stuck with me for good.”

“Stuck with you? I can’t imagine a worse thing.” It had been a blatant lie, of course, and the laugh that his boyfriend had let out in return had told him that Cristiano had taken it as such. The six hundred kilometers between them had still been a knife in Leo’s heart, had pushed tears into his eyes and had made him ache, but he had not given into his tears as he had listened to Cristiano going on about how there would be no way that he and his team would lose the next Clásico.

_**El Clásico, 21. November 2015.** _

They had done it, they had done it all over again. The cheering that had come from their fans had seemed to have been even more deafening than it had usually been when Leo had jumped into the hug that Luis had offered to him. They had done it again, though that time they had exceeded even their own high expectations. They had won 4-0, the Blancos had stood no chance against them.

Leo’s mind had been reeling when he had jumped into the embrace that an ecstatic Luis had offered to him and he had felt dizzy as he had been spun around, their laughter blending borders with hysteria. His other friends and teammates had come together around them and he had barely been set back onto his feet before Neymar had taken a turn to hug him. A 4-0 win already would have been magnificent under regular circumstances, but with it having been a win in a Clásico it had been almost as good as it only could have gotten. Leo had tried not to look over to where the Real players had come together on the pitch, most of them had either been sitting or straight-up lying on the grass with the embarrasment of defeat written on their faces. One wrong look could have resulted in a tidal wave of bad press for him. The press would not try and find any proofs for a relationship between him and Cristiano, but would probably put him into the spotlight as someone who had needed to mock the team that had lost.

Just as it had been during the last Clásico, the first one that Leo and Cristiano had gone through as a couple, the minutes on the tunnel had been the most awkward ones. They had caught each other’s gaze by coincidence and just for a second and Cristiano had _winked_ at him before Leo had quick snapped his head back around, hoping that he had not been blushing. Right there in the tunnel it had been the first time that they had seen each other in almost three months. They had tried to free a day or two nonetheless, had made plans of seeing each other but had ended up discarding every single one, failing to get around to see each other. Leo had suffered badly when they had gone through an equally long period of being separated between the Clásico in March and Junior’s second birthday, but he had managed it quite well that time.

Maybe because their relationship had no longer been as new as it had been back then and because Cristiano had always inquired on how he had _really_ been doing. The Portuguese had not forgotten that Leo had gotten so bad the first time they had been parted that he had thought about breaking up, as it had all been too much for him. Leo had been on FaceTime with Dolores almost as much as he had with Cristiano. She had been worried about the way that Leo had not stood in much contact with his own family - Leo had not talked to his mother after the short phone call on his birthday and he had not even gotten around to tell her about his new relationship, even though it had been going on for nine months by then. It just... had not mattered all that much to Leo that his mother had not known. They might have grown apart ever since he had stayed in Barcelona and his mother had returend to Argentina, but he had since stopped missing her like he had missed her back in the days. He then had people in his life who had filled out that empty space more than enough.

Cristiano and Sergio had, much like they had done it after the last Clásico had resulted in a loss as well, stood together, their faces wearing masks of anger and disappointment and Cristiano must have slipped for a moment because their eyes had instantly found each other when Leo had dared to look over. Even from the distance Leo had seen how his boyfriend’s eyes had narrowed and he had barely suppressed the urge to wind out of the embrace that Neymar had held him in. 

“You’re not even trying to hide it,” had been whispered into his ear and Gerard had chuckled when he had ruffled through Leo’s sweaty hair.

“Well _Sergio_ spend the entire second half glaring at you.”

“When does he not? He’s been doing it for years, it’s not that obvious between the two of us.”

Leo had twisted his head to catch a sight of his friend looking over to where Sergio and Cristiano had been standing, and he had grinned. “You’re not even trying to hide it,” he had chirped, making Gerard snort. The Catalan had ruffled through his hair again before he had hugged him from behind. The air had been buzzing when the Barça players had made their way to the changing room. They had won, most magnificently so, and Leo’s high had only been pushed further up by the excitement that he would get to see Cristiano again. Leo, Neymar and Gerard had walked side by side, all three of them had been eager to be reunited with their respective boyfriends as neither Gerard nor Neymar had any more luck during the past three months than Leo had. 

“I’m literally so exited,” Gerard had muttered as they had entered the changing room, “I can’t believe that it’s been _months_.”

“Yeah, I’m glad that I managed to get a few days off,” Neymar had stated. “It’s really been too long, James nearly lost it when I had to tell him that I wouldn’t be able to come.”

Leo had nodded and with that they had dropped the subject and had undressed in order to get into the showers, talking about the game they had just won instead. He had tried to not think about Cristiano while he had showered, as it could have resulted in a very embarrassing situation for him, but his heart had been downright trembling with anticipation that he would get to see his boyfriend again. And not as a member of the rival team out on the pitch, as CR7, as the archenemy, but as Cristiano.

They had agreed to meet in the staff parking lot of the Bernabéu stadium because Cristiano had insisted that there had been no need for Leo to get a rental car. It had meant that Leo would need to stay behind until everyone else would have left, so he had taken his time in the shower, had even put conditioner into his hair and had let it sit for five minutes even though it really had not been necessary. By the time that he had come out of the shower, Neymar and Gerard had been the only ones who had not yet left. Neymar and James may have since gone public with their relationship, but they had nonetheless tried to keep it away from the cameras and so the Brazilian had not run straight to his partner.

“Do you want to ride with me?”, Gerard had asked, shouldering his gym and holding up the keys of his rental car as if to underline what he had said. “Neymar’s coming with me, too.”

Leo had smiled and had shaken his head in negation to the offer. “Cristiano’s picking me up.”

He had rolled his eyes and had threatened to throw his balled-up towel at Neymar when his best friend had giggled and had suggestively wriggled his eyebrows, “Oh, Ronaldo can’t even wait until you’re coming to his house?”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Leo had retorted without any real bite behind it.

Neymar had stepped closer to hug him. “I’m happy for you, though. Even if it’s Ronaldo who’s making you so happy.”

Smiling from ear to ear, Leo had hugged his best friend back. “Thank you, Ney. Cristiano... he really makes me happy. I love him a lot.”

“I still need to have a little chat with him, though.”

“Hm?”

“I haven’t gotten around to tell him that I’ll break his ankles and his stupid face if he only thinks about treating your heart in the wrong way.”

Leo simply had to laugh, and he had thrown his head back as he had done so. Neymar having an actual conversation with Cristiano - and Cristiano actually listening to what Neymar has to say? He would have paid to see that.

“I already told him,” Gerard had said, patting Neymar’s back as if to calm him down. “Come on now, I’d _really_ like to see my boyfriend soon.”

Neymar and Gerard had said their goodbyes and had left, and it had only been then that Leo had begun to dress himself. A grin had grown on his face when he had rummaged a bit in his gym bag until he had found the grey bundle he had been looking for. If Luis would have caught him doing so much as holding a Real sweater the Uruguayan would most definitely lose it. Leo had felt his cheeks getting a bit warm as he had unfolded the sweater and had slipped it over his head, a sense of familiarity washing over him at the way that the oversized piece of clothing had covered him. It had been Cristiano’s idea that he should wear it, as the hood had been large enough for him to be able to hide his face and it would be less conspicuous than if Leo would wear his Barça hoodie and a paparazzo would get a photo of a person wearing a Messi hoodie getting into Cristiano Ronaldo’s car.

Leo had combined the hoodie with a pair of plain grey sweatpants, had quickly stuffed his belongings into his gym bag and had gotten his suitcase from where he had stashed it away in the small adjoined storage room. There had been a few teasing questions about why he had not brought it to his hotel room beforehand, but when he had claimed that he would need it after the game while Neymar and Gerard had given him knowing looks, the questions had ceased. He had listened through the door whether he had been able to make out any voices in the corridor, but after he had found it to be quiet, he had pulled the hood over his head and had opened the door.

The young Argentine had send a quick prayer to heaven when he had turned out to have been lucky enough to not encounter anyone of importance on his way to the staff parking lot, which had been a bit more secluded than the public one. Leo had been so nervous that his knees had trembled as he had come to stand in the middle of the parking lot, trying to make out Cristiano’s car amongst those that had been parked there but neither the Bugatti nor the Lamborghini had been anywhere to be seen. His phone had vibrated in his pocked a few moments later.

 _Cristiano:_ [The Porsche, bebê. You’re looking a bit lost right now 😋]

“Idiot,” Leo had muttered, but it had been by no means meant as an honest insult and then that he had known which car to look for, it had taken him no longer than a few seconds to spot the Porsche in the far back of the parking lot. He had felt a faint blush rising into his face as he had made his way over to where it had been parked. The lid of the trunk had opened for him before he had even reached the car and Leo had pulled the hood further down into his face as he had put his gym back, then his suitcase into the trunk. The lid had closed automatically as he had rounded the car to get to the passenger’s side and he had tried to check for any paparazzi as inconspicuously as he could have done it before he had opened the door and had quickly gotten into the car.

“Hey bebê.” Thanks to the tinted windows of the Porsche, Leo had not hesitated to shrug the hood off. Cristiano had been there in the driver’s seat, looking at him with a lopsided smile and Leo had been certain that his heart had somersaulted when Cristiano’s smile had widened and he had slowly leaned closer to him, “I missed you.”

Leo had not gotten around to answer before Cristiano had cupped his face and had kissed him, languidly and without an apparent care in the world. He had been left whimpering when the kiss had been deepened. Three months had been far too long. He had closed his eyes, trying not to think about the possibility of ruthless paparazzi sneaking around the Porsche to get a photo of them through the tinted windows. His boyfriend had let out a small sound of disappointment when Leo had pulled back, though Cristiano had hummed in appreciation when he had only done so to stroke Cristiano’s cheeks, “I missed you too.”

He had been kissed once more before Cristiano had leaned back into his seat and had started the ignition, winking at him when he had buckled up, “Let’s get you home, bebê.” 

_Home_. It had been the way that Cristiano had used home so freely which had made Leo smile and his heart leap all over again and he had nodded as he had buckled himself up. The older man’s right hand had come to rest on Leo’s thigh as soon as he had reversed the car out of the parking slot and Leo had put his hand on top of Cristiano, smiling at the familiarity of it. They had not actually spoken much while Cristiano had driven, they had kept up which each other’s lives through FaceTime and nearly constant texting and so Leo had been fine with the radio softly playing. Cristiano had squeezed his thigh every now and then while Leo’s fingers had run invisible circles on the back of Cristiano’s hand. He had expected his boyfriend to be devastated, considering that he and his team had lost 0-4, but the older man had not lost his smile and so Leo had discarded the thought of mentioning the Clásico in that moment, “Cris?”

“Yeah bebê?”

“Junior’s already in bed, isn’t he?”

The Portuguese had looked at the time display on the dashboard and had hummed in agreement, “Mãe put him to bed at eight. To keep his routine, you know.” Leo had nodded and Cristiano had thrown him a quick look, smiling knowingly. “You’ll see him tomorrow, bebê.” The older man had laughed at the pout that Leo had turned out for the sake of it, “And I’m very happy that you’ll be there to see him tomorrow.”

Leo had sighed dramatically, “I am too, but I just would’ve liked to see what he thinks about the presents that I bought for him.”

His boyfriend had given him a pointed look, “Leo, you’re definitely spoiling him. There’s absolutely no need for you to buy him something every time that you see him.”

“But I don’t see him that often and I hope that... you know, he remembers me when he plays with the things that I gave him and he always seems so happy whenever he gets a new toy.”

Cristiano had squeezed his thigh. “This is ridiculous, Leo,” he had said with a low voice, “I’m making sure that he won’t forget you. You’re part of his life now, bebê.” The lump in Leo’s throat had hindered him from answering verbally, but he had squeezed Cristiano’s hand a bit harder. Leo had spotted light coming from the kitchen window when Cristiano had swiftly driven the Porsche on the driveway. “I’m so glad that I have her to watch Junior,” Cristiano had said, a bit out of the sudden. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving him with someone who’s not family. And since you’re too busy embarrassing us on the pitch...”

Leo had thrown his head back to laugh, “Maybe you can stay home with your son soon,” not sobering when the Portuguese had cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Careful, bebê. You’re on thin ice.”

His boyfriend had gotten his bags out of the trunk and Dolores had opened the front door before Leo had even reached it, greeting him with a wide and honest smile. “Come in, come in.” Dolores had stepped aside and had opened the door a bit wider, allowing Leo and her son to enter. “Docinho, it is so good to see you! Come here, let me have a look at you. It’s been so long. How are you doing?” She had pulled him into an embrace that had been so motherly that Leo had melted into it and had closed his arms around her in return. “You played very good today, docinho.”

He had blushed a bit, “Thank you.”

Cristiano had made a sound of protest from behind Leo, “Uhm, okay?”

“Não há necessidade de ficar com ciúmes, menino.”

“Eu não sou ciumento! Mas, por favor, solte meu namorado. Eu não o via há meses.”

Leo had wriggled out of Dolores’ arms, he had never really liked it when Cristiano and her had spoken Portuguese around him, since he had not understood it and they literally could have talked about him without him being aware it. “I’m happy to see you too, Dolores. I...”, he had trailed off, cursing himself for blushing a bit more, “well... Imissedyoutoo.” Cristiano’s mother had laughed, just as kind as ever, and had patted one of Leo’s cheek. It had been all that she had gotten to do before Cristiano had stepped closer, had grabbed Leo and had pulled him flush against him, wrapping him into a tight embrace.

“Junior’s asleep?”

“Yes,” Dolores had said with a nod and a knowing smile, “we watched the game but he was asleep before Barça scored the third goal.” Cristiano had grumbled something incoherent in return where he had nuzzled his face into Leo’s hair and had moved his hands down the curve of Leo’s back to slip them underneath the hem of the oversized hoodie, shamelessly cupping the shorter man’s ass. “When should I come over tomorrow?”

“Ten,” Cristiano had muttered, “I have regeneration at eleven.” He had only waited until his mother had gotten her handbag and had closed the entrance door behind her before he had pulled back, had smirked down at Leo and had shamelessly squeezed his ass, “Junior’s in bed, my mother’s gone... You know what that means.”

“Can I at least unpack my suitca- _ah!_ ”

Leo had squealed when Cristiano had hoisted him up, causing him to wrap his legs around the taller man’s waist out of reflex. “I really don’t care about your suitcase,” his boyfriend had growled, squeezing his ass and nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. “The only thing I care about right now is getting you out of your clothes and into my bed, bebê.”

If someone would have asked him, Leo would have needed to admit that he had still felt a bit embarrassed whenever Cristiano had manhandled him like that and while it had made him blush and gasp, he never would have told his boyfriend to put him down. “Cris-” Cristiano had been about to throw the bedroom door close behind them, but he had stopped himself at the last second and had closed it rather quietly instead. Luckily so, as the door being thrown close probably would have resulted in Junior waking up at the end of the corridor and for their fun to be over before it even would have started.

Cristiano had let out a husky laugh as he had set Leo back down onto his feet and had moved his hands back underneath the oversized hoodie to feel at his skin with greedy hands, allowing them to roam around before he had dropped them to the waistband of Leo’s sweatpants. “I can’t believe that I really managed to get through these months, bebê. Missing you,” Cristiano had paused to give a teasing bite to a spot low on Leo’s neck, making the younger man moan in response, “is never getting any easier, Leo. I swear it only gets worse because I need you by side. It’s not even funny.” 

It had taken some time and Leo had giggled when Cristiano had nearly stumbled over his own feet as he had attempted to kick off his sweatpants and CR7 boxers. He had fallen silent when he had looked up to meet his boyfriend’s gaze as Cristiano had made his way over to the bed, slowly as if he had been a predator closing in on his prey and biting his lip when he had crowded Leo onto the king-sized bed. The Portuguese had instantly attacked him with a devouring kiss, had greedily run his hands over Leo’s naked sides and had hummed when Leo’s upper body had arched off the bed and into the touch. “I missed you so fucking much, bebê,” the Portuguese had muttered, leaning down to speak those words against the pale skin of Leo’s chest. “My bed’s been so empty without you.”

Leo had brought one hand into Cristiano’s dark curls, tugging with just the right amount of strength, “I hope so.” He had laughed out loud when his boyfriend’s head had shot up from where he had been kissing down his chest and he had been glared at.

“Excuse me? Are you implying that I’m a cheater?”

“I was just-”

Leo had squealed when his boyfriend had growled and had grabbed one of his thighs as he had nibbled at Leo’s neck a bit harder and had set out to suck a bruise into the unblemished skin. “I’d never cheat on you, Leo,” Cristiano had said, cocking a somewhat stern eyebrow after he had pulled back to inspect his handiwork. He had pressed down onto the new bruise with his thumb and had slowly closed his hand around Leo’s throat as he had done so, making the younger man shiver and wantonly pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I know,” Leo had whimpered. His cock had stirred when Cristiano’s eyes had wandered from his eyes to his lips, lingering there.

“Sentir sua falta quase partiu meu coração,” Cristiano had whispered after he had leaned down to brush his lips against Leo’s, “eu não estou mais completo sem você, bebê.”

Leo had been left whimpering while Cristiano had kissed him. The kiss had become erratic and increasingly desperate and he had mewled when Cristiano had let go of his throat to run his hand down his chest and towards his, until then, neglected cock instead, “Cris-”

“I sure missed you gasping my name like that,” the older man had purred and he had smirked as he had given Leo’s cock a quick squeeze, brushing the pad of his thumb over the already glistering slit before he had splayed his hand over the inside of Leo’s thigh. “Hand me the lube, bebê. It’s under the pillow.”

Leo had gasped and had reached over his head to blindly search for said bottle, handing it to his boyfriend once he had found it, “It’s-”

“ _Yes_ , it still costs 120€ per bottle, bebê. Like I said: but only the best gets to touch _this_ masterpiece of a body.” He had let out a breathless laugh when Cristiano had kissed down his chest, had brushed over his nipples, had kissed around his navel and had ignored his cock at all to pay attention to the insides of Leo’s thighs instead. The Portugese had been careful as to not leace any bruises on the sensitive skin there, had only used teasing hints of his teeth while he had brought both of his hands to Leo’s hips to hold him down. “Look at you, you’re so beautiful bebê.” Cristiano had sat back onto his heels to fumble with the bottle of lube, coating the index and middle finger of his right hand. “Às vezes eu ainda não consigo acreditar que você é meu, Leo.”

Leo’s breath had hitched and he had reached up to take a hold of the pillow above him when Cristiano had traced his puckered hole to spread out the lube a bit. He had nodded, signaling that he had been okay with what had been done to him. “Go on,” he had breathed, and his voice had been broken by a moan when Cristiano had pushed the first finger into him. His boyfriend had been as careful as always, had made sure that he had time to adjust to the feeling before he had added the second finger and had begun to loosen his muscle. Leo would have liked to say that the three months apart had not changed anything about it, but he had felt a bit more sensitive and the whimper he had let out at a jab that had been a bit too hard alarmed Cristiano a bit. “It’s just... it’s been three months, Cris.”

“I hope so,” Cristiano had retorted in a reference to what Leo had told him before, but had stopped his teasing right there and had returned to pepper the insides of Leo’s thighs with kisses again. “I’d go crazy knowing that anyone else gets to see you like this, bebê.” He had crooked his fingers as he had said that, having no troubles finding Leo’s sensitive spot and Leo had felt him smiling against his skin when he had moaned at the sensation of it.

His boyfriend had prepared him until Leo’s hips had been bucking with despair, and one look at Cristiano had told him that the other man had been just as desperate. “Cris,” he had whined, trying to arch his back even more to push himself impossibly further down the digits which surely must had been teasing him for good ten minutes, “ _please_.” 

Cristiano had responded by gently nibbling at the inside of his thigh and while he had been undeniably careful, Leo’s pale skin had still been marked with a few red blothes. He had pulled his fingers out, causing Leo to whine at the loss as his muscle had clenched around nothing, and their breathing had sped up when he had poured a bit more lube into his palm and had generously coated his cock with it before he had taken Leo by the hips and had pulled him onto his lap, much like he had done it the first time that they had slept together. Leo had loosely wrapped his legs around Cristiano’s waist while Cristiano had positioned himself, had aligned the tip of his cock with his opening and had begun to push in. Leo had whimpered, both from the feeling of being penetrated and from the way that Cristiano’s fingers had dug into his waist.

“Fuck,” Cristiano had gasped, steadily pushing in until his pelvis had been pressed flush against Leo’s ass. Leo had drawn in a deep breath in order to keep himself relaxed and had only squirmed a bit to correct their position. He would have liked to kiss Cristiano, who had looked so incredibly good with a few of his curls falling onto his forehead, but he would have needed a couple more inches of height to be able to do so and he had pouted to express his dislike about it. His boyfriend had caught onto it, had laughed and had promptly leaned down to kiss Leo while his cock had remained burried inside him. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Leo had whimpered and his eyes had fluttered close when Cristiano had finally moved, had pulled almost completely out before he had thrusted back in, eliciting a moan. He had clutched at the pillow when Cristiano had begun to fuck him with slow and precise movements, chasing Leo’s orgasm just as much as his own.

It had caused Leo a great deal of strength to keep his eyes from staying closed, but Cristiano slowly coming undone above him had been to good of a sight to miss it. He had been so breathtakingly hot with the blush that had been spreading out over his chest and had even risen into his tanned cheeks, with his hooded eyes that had roamed over Leo’s body in open appreciation. “Look at you,” the Portuguese had grunted, “I’d love to do this to you every day, bebê. Wake up and fuck you before I head out for training, come home and,” he had been interrupted by a low-throated moan, “bend you over for a quicky while Junior’s taking his nap.”

“Cris-”

“Eu realmente não posso ficar sem você.”

Leo might not have understood what Cristiano had told him, but he had since figured out that his boyfriend had always spoken in his mother tongue when he had needed to pour his heart out and so he had been toched by it nonetheless. “I love you too,” he had whispered and had dropped a hand to his neglected cock to grab it by the base, eventually beginning to jerk himself off in the rhythm that Cristiano had been fucking him with. The new surge of arousal it had brought had caused him to throw his head back down onto the mattress and the tension in his nethers to intensify, making him involuntarily clench around Cristiano’s cock.

“F-Fuck,” the older man had groaned and he had only managed two more thrusts before he had shot over the peak of his orgasm and had spilled his release inside of Leo. Cristiano had moaned coarsely, a deep baritone sound that had pushed Leo over the edge as well and he had tightened his legs around Cristiano’s waist until his thighs had trembled as he had come hard against his own stomach. “Puta merda, que porra é essa,” Cristiano had gasped when he had slowly pulled out, making Leo shiver, and had plopped down onto the bed beside Leo, his chest heaving as he had stared at the ceiling. “Leo, that was...”

“Rather quick?” Leo had giggled, his mind reeling from the bliss of his afterglow, and he had continued to lie flat on his back for a moment longer before he had risen onto his elbows to kiss Cristiano, who had languidly kissed him back. “I love you,” he had whispered against Cristiano’s lips before he had pulled back to look at him, and his boyfriend had brought up his clean hand to cup it against his cheek, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip. They had both chuckled when Leo had grazed the pad of Cristiano’s thumb with his teeth and had flicked the tip of his tongue against it.

“I love you too, bebê.”

He had been unable to resist the temptation of kissing his boyfriend once more, though had made sure that he would not accidentally lie down on top of him and thus dirty the both of them. “I’ll go and take a shower, okay?”

“Yeah of course, bebê. I’ll make us something to eat.”

“You’ll cook?”

Cristiano had snorted while he and Leo had clambered off the bed, “No. Mãe cooked for us.”

“I was about to say, because I’m definitely too tired to work in the kitchen for an hour. God, I love your mother.”

“Well I know for a fact that she’s rather fond of you too.”

Leo’s smile had turned into a grin, “But I’m still waiting for her to show me your embarrassing baby photos,” and he had laughed at the way that Cristiano had cocked an eyebrow.

“Don’t get your hopes up too much, bebê. I told her that I don’t want that.”

He had made a vague sound, “You’re sure that she didn’t already send me photos of how your brother dressed you in one of your sister’s dresses? And how proud you looked of the little flower hair clips in your hair?” Cristiano had glared at him and Leo had let out a squeal when he had hurried to leave the bedroom, tiptoeing his way to the bathroom. He had been back at Cristiano’s side, he would spend the next three days with his boyfriend and his family and the realisation had been enough to keep the lopsided grin on his face as he had stepped into the shower. He would get to see Junior again; Leo had missed the little boy just as much as he had missed Cristiano.

It had not taken him long to finish his shower, as he had only given himself a rinse in order to get rid of the proofs that their lovemaking had left in and on his body. He had not been able to wash the love bites off, of course, and he had gasped when he had accidentally brushed over those on the insides of his thighs. They might not have looked as severe as the one on his neck, but they had been twice as sensitive and Leo had silently cursed Cristiano for his inability to listen to his plea of _not_ leaving any bruises behind. If asked, he would have needed to admit that he had not been all that mad about it. He had taken one of the fluffy white bathrobes off the hooks on the door, a bit surprised when it had fit him rather well, though there had been no need for him to look in the mirror to know that there had been a Real emblem stuck on its back.

Leo had made sure to be as quiet as he could have been as he had tiptoed past Junior’s room, as the door had not been completely shut, and had made his way down the stairs. Cristiano had been standing at the stove, dressed in nothing more than a pair of boxer shorts while he had been stirring in a pot. “That’s not a very safe way to cook,” he had chirped, even though he never would have dreamed of telling Cristiano to put on more clothes than absolutely necessary. Not when his boyfriend had looked so... He had caught himself blushing, which had been ridiculous, considering for how long they had since been together, but he had not been able to help himself. His boyfriend _had_ been the most handsome man he had ever crossed paths with. Cristiano had laughed put and had half turned to look at Leo, the smirk which had formed on his face had shown that he must have spotted Leo’s blush.

“It might not be, but neither were those shorts you were wearing on your birthday, bebê. I wouldn’t have managed to get you out of them if they would’ve caught on fire.” Leo had merely rolled his eyes and had pulled the sash of the bathrobe a bit tighter around him as he had moved to sit down at the kitchen table. He had to confess that watching Cristiano cook in just his underwear had been almost as good as watching him play football.

“It smells good,” he had said. “What is it?”

“Caldo Verde, after my mother’s recipe.” Leo had watched how Cristiano had waited until the soup had heated up before he had swiftly filled two soup plates and had brought them over to the table, setting one down in front of him, “I hope that you’ll like it.”

He had already known that he would, though he had let out a laugh. Cristiano had looked at him in confusion. “Doesn’t your poor mother ever get tired of making _everything_ with kale?”

The Portuguese had cocked an eyebrow and had plopped down onto the chair beside Leo, instantly placing his left hand on Leo’s thigh. “Kale is _the_ best vegetable,” he had said as if his family’s name had just been insulted. “And I’m sorry that you can’t see it’s potential.”

Leo had shaken his head and had dunked the spoon into the steaming soup before raising it to his lips. “Potential?” He had given it a quick blow, “You’re right, I really can’t see that.” The soup had been delicious, though he had decided to not give _Cristiano_ the satisfaction and tell Dolores when she would be coming over instead.

They had not spoken much while they had eaten. Leo’s free hand had laid on Cristiano’s hand much like it had done it during the car ride from the stadium to Cristiano’s house, and the exertion from the game and their early starts had slowly but steadily begun to creep up on the both of them. Cristiano had laughed and had affectionately tuffled through Leo’s hair when the younger man had failed to hide a yawn. “Come on bebê, let’s just clean this up and then we’ll go straight to bed.” Leo had not bothered to roll his eyes at the way that he had been spoken to as if he had been Junior, as it had been rather sweet, had only nodded and had promptly taken his as well as Cristiano’s plate to rinse and stash them away in the dishwasher. Cristiano’s arm had sneaked around his waist just as he had closed the lid of the dishwasher and had pulled him back until he had bumped against Cristiano’s chest. “I love you,” the older man had whispered, letting go of him after having kissed his cheek.

“I love you too. My suitcase-”

“I already brought it upstairs while you were in the shower.”

Leo had turned around and had risen onto his tiptoes to press a quick kiss onto Cristiano’s lips, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, bebê.”

And indeed, both his suitcase and his gym bag had stood beside the nightstand on the side of the king-sized bed which had since become his. Leo had only taken his toiletry and a fresh pair of underwear out of his suitcase, slipping on the latter before he had joined his boyfriend in the bathroom. Cristiano had his toothbrush in his mouth but had been fumbling with his hair in the mirror and Leo had to snort when he had seen how Cristiano had tried to gather his curls in a bun. “Oh no, you’re not doing that.” His boyfriend had given him a quite indignant look and Leo had bitten his lip to keep himself from laughing when he had wet his toothbrush to squeeze the toothpaste onto it, deliberately ignoring the way that his boyfriend had continued to look at him. Cristiano had not let go of his hair that had definitely been too short for a proper bun. “Don’t tell me you think that it would actually look good like that? Grow a few more inches and then it might look decent.”

He had happily brushed his teeth; Cristiano had eventually huffed and had resumed to brush his own teeth as well. “You’a scho rude,” the Portuguese had mumbled around his moutful of toothpaste.

“Oh so because I don’t want my boyfriend to go and embarrass himself by wearing a rat tail I’m an asshole?” Leo had shrugged, “Just know that you won’t get to touch me if you’re wearing it.”

Cristiano had let out a vague sound and had stepped closer to put his arm around Leo’s waist and pull him against him, “I know you’re lying, bebê.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

He had shown a smug smile and had continued to hold Leo close while he had finished to brush his teeth, “I _know_ it.”

It had barely been half past ten by the time that Leo and Cristiano had crawled into bed, but Leo had still let out a tired groan once his face had been buried in the pillow. One of Cristiano’s hand had come to rest in the space between his shoulder blades. It had lingered there for a moment before it had slowly moved down the curve of his back, stopping just above the swell of his ass and lingering there as well before it had made its way into Leo’s hair. Leo had turned his head so that he could had looked at Cristiano. He had not been able to make out much of his boyfriend’s face in the darkness of the bedroom, though feeling Cristiano so close to him had been more than enough. “I missed you,” he had whispered, smiling when the other man had leaned down to kiss the top of his head and had combed through his hair once more prior to pulling his hand away.

“This right here is where you belong, Leo, and I promise that one day you won’t have to leave at all.” Cristiano had shifted beside him and Leo had responded by turning over onto his side so that his boyfriend had been able to spoon him from behind. He had let out a satisfied sigh when Cristiano had draped his right arm around him and had pulled him flush against his chest, tucking his head underneath his chin, “Good night, bebê.”

“Good night.”

༻✦༺

The bed beside him had been empty when Leo had woken up the next morning. It had been the first time in quite a few weeks that the had gotten around to wake up on his own and not because of his alarm. The curtains had been opened, though the weather outside had been little motivation for him to shrug off the last remnants of sleep. Thick raindrops had splattered against the window and the sky had been draped with dark grey clouds. It had been impossible for him to tell the time, but Leo had pouted when it had fully set in that Cristiano had indeed not been beside him. Had he already left for regeneration? No, Leo had decided, Cristiano would not have left without waking him up first. Dolores had also been due to come and Cristiano had promised him a breakfast together with Junior.

He had rolled over onto his side with an exaggerated and drawled-out sigh, had turned his back towards the window and had closed his eyes. The bed had definitely been comfortable enough for him to stay a little bit longer in it. Leo had quickly fallen asleep again and with the duvet pulled up to his nose, it had only been his head of messy hair that had been sticking out. He had not stirred awake when the door had slowly been opened, just for a few inches wide, so as if the person on the other side had wanted to check the air.

“Look at that, menino,” Cristiano had whispered, a smile growing on his face as he had opened the door wider and had spotted his sleeping boyfriend.

“’Eo?”

“Yes, it’s Leo.” He had kissed his son’s cheek, “But he’s still sleeping, nino,” Cristiano had went on with the same low voice, making sure that he would not accidentally spill the smoothie he had been balancing in his free hand. “Deveríamos acordá-lo, você não acha?” Junior had nodded and Cristiano had kissed his cheek once more before he had carefully put his son down onto the bed.

“’Eo!” The toddler had tried, and failed, to stay on his feet on the soft mattress and had instead crawled over to Leo, who had not yet stirred. “’Eeeooo, up!”

Cristiano had grinned when Leo had mewled and his face had scrunched up in the most adorable way, and he had gotten onto the bed as well, chuckling to himself. “Good morning, bebê.” He had leaned down to kiss Leo’s forehead, “You have a visitor who’d _really_ like to see you right now.”

The younger man had barely managed to grumble a “good morning” and roll over onto his back before Junior had jumped on top of him with an excited squeal, “Wha-”

“’Eo!”

Leo had been awake within an instant and had wrapped his arms around Junior to pull him into an embrace. “Hey niño,” he had said, clearing his throat when he had felt an unwanted lump forming in it, and he had closed his eyes when he had hugged the toddler close until Junior had begun to wriggle, “I missed you so much.”

Junior had continued to sit on his stomach, his small hands grabbing at the blanket, “’Eo play?”

“Yeah, I’ll play with you, niño.” Leo had only then looked over at his boyfriend, who had been sipping at his telltale green smoothie, “Ugh, seriously?”

Cristiano had grinned at him, “Don’t worry bebê, I made you one with raspberries instead.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, I thought my writer's block couldn't get any worse and here I am. Sorry that it took me so long, but _damn_ I really fought with this one and the majority of it is just plotless fluff... I'm trying to push through and not let the block establish itself, so fingers crossed that it'll sort itself out :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Wednesday, 23. December 2015.** _

“Will you come to Madrid for Christmas, Leo?” Cristiano had asked him one late evening in mid-December when they had both been in their beds and talking to each other on the phone, “I would love to have you here. I miss you. And Junior, he would be so happy if you would come over and spend time with him.”

Leo might not have mentioned it to his boyfriend, but he had already mentally prepared himself to spend the holidays by himself like he had done it countless of times in his life. Antonella had always gone to visit her family for the holidays and while Leo had always been _formally_ invited, because he had been her boyfriend, he had not actually come after the invitation once. Before Neymar and James had officially become a thing and before Gerard and Sergio had stopped pretending that they had not been madly in love with each other, it had established as some sort of habit that Leo had spend Christmas with his two best friends. They would come together in Leo’s house, would cook and bake together, would exchange gifts and spend the rest of the evening watching movies from their childhood.

But his best friends had already told him by then that they would not be in Barcelona, with Gerard and Sergio staying in Seville and Neymar visiting James in Madrid, and Leo had thus been ready to stay on his own. He never would have asked Cristiano whether he could come to visit of not, even if he had been dying to do so. Leo had been well aware of the fact that Cristiano still had his own family. Dolores, Cristiano’s brother and his sisters would all come together in Madrid and Leo had not even thought about possibly forcing himself into their closed circle.

He had cleared his throat before he had answered, “I... I mean I don’t have to come, Cristiano. They’re your family and I’m-”, but had not finished his sentence when the Portuguese had laughed on the other end of the line, a deep baritone sound that had managed to downright seep into Leo’s bone and make him blush in the darkness of his bedroom.

“Bebê,” Cristiano had said once he had stopped laughing, “how many times did I tell you that you’re part of my family? Do you think that I lied to you, hm? I’d be very happy if I could spend Cristmas with you.”

“But...”

“Leo, bebê.” His boyfriend’s voice had dropped a bit lower, “My family won’t be complete if you’re not here. Yeah, my mother, my siblings and their partners will come and I understand if you feel that it sounds like it’s too much but... I really want you here, too.”

“I’ll come,” Leo had said without allowing himself time to break his mind over it. Cristiano had been right when he had said that the prospect of getting to meet the entire rest of Cristiano’s family had been a bit overwhelming, but he could not have possibly passed on the opportunity of being able to spend his days off with Cristiano and Junior, the more so since neither of his best friends would be available either. “I’ll come to Madrid.”

“You will?”

He had nodded even though Cristiano had not been able to see it, “I mean I’d spend it on my own otherwise so-”

“I can’t allow that,” Cristiano had cut in. “If you would’ve said no I would’ve just hired someone to get you and bring you to me.”

They had both laughed and Leo had run a tired hand over his face; he may have seen his boyfriend a bit less than two weeks ago but he had missed him as much as he had always done it. It had not mattered whether they had not seen each other for three days or three months. Leo had mourned every day that he had not gotten to see Cristiano, and his little son, in person, had hated every evening that he had only heard Cristiano’s voice over the phone though he had to admit that it had been getting easier. It had no longer torn him apart as much as it had done it during the beginning of their relationship. He had known that Cristiano had been his, and that he had been Cristiano’s. That had been enough and more than he ever could have asked to have. “ _But_ ,” Leo had drawled out, “you have to promise me something first.”

“Of course, bebê. Whatever you want.”

“You can’t scold me for spoling Junior to my heart’s content.”

His boyfriend had groaned at the other end of the line, though Leo had been sure that the had heard him smiling nonetheless when he had answered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I never scolded you for that.”

“Oh so that fifteen minute talk about how _just because I’m rich doesn’t mean that my son should grow up to be spoiled beyond repair_ after I gave Junior the puzzles I brought him wasn’t a scolding? I sure felt like I was being scolded, Cristiano.”

“You know that I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.”

“Just... try not to buy him the entire Camp Nou store, okay? Ser will have my head if you do that, Leo.”

Leo had let out a laugh, “I’ll try.”

༻✦༺

Truth be told: Leo _had_ tried to keep himself in check and not buy everything that he had seen and had thought of as something that Junior would really like, and so he had been quite proud of himself for having left the shop at Camp Nou with no more than two bags. He had bought Junior a Barça hoodie that the boy would properly grow in to in a few months, a pair of sweatpants, which Leo had thought so be so adorable, as well as a hat, a pair of gloves with Leo’s ten printed on its back and a few toys which he had guessed Leo would appreciate. _He could really run around like my biggest fan_ , Leo had realised after he had plopped down into the diver’s seat of his car and had placed the bags in the passenger’s seat, and he had laughed out loud at the realisation as he had put the key into the ignition. 

Not only would Sergio probably set out on a hunt for his head, Leo had no doubt that Cristiano would actually faint if his beloved son would grow up to become a little Blaugrana. If that had not been enough motivation... So while his short trip to the Camo Nou store had not been a problem, what had turned out to be a problem had been the fact that Leo had gotten the idea to take a look at _Toys, Children & Babies_ category on Amazon while he had watched Netflix later the same evening. That was where he had somewhat lost control.

Leo had let out a groan of shame and resignation after he had clicked “order now” on the overfilled shopping card and had discarded his phone onto the couch beside him. He would not be able to bring all of what he had just bought with him to Madrid in one go, not only because Cristiano would rightfully lose it but because he would have needed to book excess baggage. Sure, he may have overdone it a bit but it had hardly been his fault that there had so many things which Junior would like! _Cristiano is right_ , the voice in the back of his mind had reminded him, _you are spoiling him_. Leo had snorted and had rubbed a tired hand over his face. If he would have had a child on his own, it would have been the most spoiled child in all of Spain.

While he had no problems finding gifts for Junior, obviously not, he had been at an absolute loss about what he could possibly get for Cristiano. It had since established itself as some kind of rule that he and Cristiano would not get each other anything too expensive after Leo had argued that the Rolex, which Cristiano had bought him for Valentine’s Day, had been too much. Even for their standards. Sure, Leo had loved the watch and the message which had been engraved on its back and had worn it whenever he could, as it had made him feel like he had a piece of Cristiano and their love with him when he had not been able to publically show it, but there had been no reason for them to go on with giving each other such ridiculously expensive presents.

After they had decided on that Leo had gone and had bought Cristiano the Spanish children’s books that he had been looking for as his birthday present and Cristiano had bought him the Real Madrid breakfast sets in return. It had been just little things that had actually been useful rather than expensive or had only been meant to be funny. It had taken Leo a few days, almost an entire week, until he had eventually gotten the idea as for what he could get for his boyfriend. Geri and him had gone to his house after training, just to sit down with a cup of tea and to talk for a bit. Leo had never been a fan of the winter months. He had hated the way that it would be dark when he would get up and how it would be dark all ove again by the time that he would come home, he had hated the cold and uncomfortable weather and it had somehow all been made worse by the fact that Cristiano had not been with him.

Yes, it may have been a bit overly attached but he had known that his best friends had not felt any different when it had come to their respective boyfriends. The couple of hoodies which Cristiano had either given him or had “accidentally” packed into his suitcase had been a small consolation, as the Portuguese had been well aware of how much Leo had loved the feeling of drowning in the oversized pieces of clothing. Leo then had quite the selection of Real Madrid as well as CR7 hoodies, all of which had been at least two sizes too large for him but the only ones he had worn as sson as he had been home.

His best friends had since grown used to him wearing them, but Gerard had still rolled his eyes when Leo had disappeared upstairs and had come back not even a minute later, wearing the hoodie of the CR7 collection. “One day you’ll slip, wear it around Luis and I’ll be forced to come up with a funeral speech,” he had said with a laugh. “Leo Messi. The greatest football player in the history of football, an utmost honest and loyal person and the best friend anyone could ever have. Lost his life at the ripe old age of twenty-eight because he wore his Blanco boyfriend’s hoodie around his friend, Luis Suárez, who hates Real Madrid even more than Sergio Ramos hates rules and regulations.”

Leo had to admit that it had been pretty funny and so he had snorted a laugh and had moved to get two cups out of the cupboard while Gerard had filled and set up the kettle, “What kind of tea do you want?”

“Do you have green tea?” Leo had nodded and had opened the tea box to put a tea bag into each of the cups, green for Gerard and pomegranate for himself. He had suppressed a yawn when they had waited for the water to be ready. “I mean he probably won’t do anything like _that_ ,” Gerard had added, “but he’ll be even more shocked than Ney or Ser were.”

“ _Cristiano_ as in _Cristiano Ronaldo?_ ” Leo had recited, grinning at the memory of his best friend’s reaction to the relationship that had developed between him and the man that had supposedly been his archenemy.

“You can’t really blame him though, can you? I mean I vividly remember how you looked when I told you that Sergio and I were messing around with each other.”

“No, I can’t blame him.”

They had chattered a bit while they had waited for their teas to brew and had, once their teas had been done, moved from the kitchen to the living room. “So,” Gerard had said after having taken the first careful sip from his tea, “did you buy all the presents yet?” Leo had given a subtile cough and had made a hand sign at the Amazon packages which had been stacked beside the TV. “Dios no lo quiera.”

“I won’t give them all to Junior at once,” Leo had hurried to say, “I just couldn’t help myself. I never can when it comes to the boy, Geri. He’s got me wrapped around his little finger.”

“I know. Ser’s talking a lot about it and I’ve seen it during Junior’s birthday.” Gerard had winked at him, “Not to mention that you’re always talking about him.”

“Sorry,” Leo had muttered and he had tried to hide his blush by taking a big sip from his tea even though it had nearly burned his tongue off.

“What are you sorry for? I think it’s sweet. Very good, even. I mean for Cristiano his son is pretty much the most important thing so if you _wouldn’t_ like Junior as much as you do I don’t think that there would be any... chances for you to last.”

“That’s what happened with Irina. I don’t know if Sergio told you but as far as I know she didn’t even _hold_ him when he was a newborn.”

“I know. That’s vile.” They had fallen into comfortable silence after that and Leo had tried not to think about what Cristiano had been doing in that very moment. “Did I show you what I got for Ser?”

“No you didn’t.”

Gerard had grinned when he had set down his cup and had retrieved his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. “He will lose it,” he had said, scrolling around a bit until he had found what he had apparently been looking for. He had tilted the screen towards Leo, “Look at this.”

Leo’s mouth had stood agape when he had realised that it had been the most recent one of Gerard’s jersey, but instead of just saying _Piqué_ it had read _Sergio Ramos_ directly over the yellow print of Gerard’s last name. It had looked like something that Gerard’s biggest supporter would wear, just with their name instead of Sergio’s. “Jesus, Geri.”

“Do you like it? Apart from the fact that it’s his name on a Blaugrana jersey, of course.”

“Are you sure that you want to give it to him?”

Gerard’s grin had widened impossibly more, “He loves to wear my stuff as much as I love to wear his. He got me a damn Blanco jersey with my name on it, I told you all about that, so I need to get him back. Also, it’s a cute thing for him to wear when he’ll support us in the next finale.”

Leo had to admit that it had been a great idea for a gift, “Would you... be mad if I’d buy something like that for Cristiano?”

“Mad? Oh no, getting to see Ronaldo dressed in a jersey with your name on it? Leo, that’s fuel for my wildest dreams. We can order it right away if you want to, then it’ll definitely arrive before you’re flying over and bam, you have the perfect gift for him.”

“It’s that easy?”

Gerard had snorted, “Yeah of course it is.” They had ordered it directly over Gerard’s phone. Leo had sat by and had sipped at his tea as he had watched how his best friend had made custom edits to the jersey. “It’s the official store,” the Catalan had explained. “Everyone can do it and I bet that we’re not the only one deciding to use it as a Christmas gift. I mean it’s cute, especially for married people and such.”

Leo had nodded in agreement and Gerard had been about to proceed to checkout when he had gotten an idea. “Do they have children’s sizes too?”

“Oh Leo I _like_ where you’re going.” They had grinned at each other, “Let’s have a look... Yeah, they have them for children.” Leo had hummed in agreement. “What do you want it to say? Junior or-”

“Cristiano Jr.”

༻✦༺

Every once in a while luck had been on Leo’s side, and so it had happened that he had come home from training on Monday and had found the long awaited package from the Barça online store waiting for him at the front door. While Gerard had pretty much promised him that it would most definitely before he would be due to fly to Madrid on Wednesday, Leo had been worried that there could be a delay because of the holidays. He had grinned from ear to ear as he had swiftly bend down and had picked the package. His anticipation for the holidays which, for him, would start in two days, had only skyrocketed even more. Setting his gym bag down at its usual place by the foot of the stairs, Leo had gone straight to the living room to open the package and he had failed to suppress an excited giggle when he had taken out the first one of the jerseys, had unfolded it and had really seen _Cristiano_ written in the same yellow lettering as his name that it had been placed above.

Resisting the urge to to send a photo to his boyfriend and thus spoil the surprise, Leo had unpacked the smaller jersey as well and had laid them out side by side to take a photo and send it to Gerard. He had let his best friend known that they had arrived and had thanked him for the inspiration and the help before he had set his phone aside and had stood from the couch with a groan. Leo had put off wrapping Junior’s presents for nearly two weeks by then, but as his flight had been in two days time Leo really had to tackle that task that very evening. It had taken him a good few minutes until he had gotten everything he had needed together - the various rolls of festive gift wrapping paper he had bought, more sticky tape than he had usually used in a year, a pair of scissors and the Christmas cards he still had to write. He had been so used to spending Christmas with his friends that he had forgotten how much work _proper_ preparation could be and he had been all the more glad that Dolores had mentioned what she had wished to be given by him.

The book on the Argentine kitchen had been the least complicated thing to get, especially since it had been wrapped by the very kind saleswoman in the book store he had bought it in. Leo had spend a good few minutes rummaging through the many Amazon packages because of course he had not decided on what he would give Junior from the array of things he had ordered beforehand, though had eventually decided on a puzzle and a couple of picture books. Together with the clothes he had bought, those had been more than appropriate for a two-year-old toddler to get for Christimas, though Leo had no doubts that Cristiano would end up raising a disapproving eyebrow nonetheless. He had grinned to himself as he had dumped the presents onto the couch, he had been so excited to see Junior’s reaction. Not to mention Cristiano’s, of course, when his boyfriend would unwrap his newest jersey. Leo had cleared the coffee table to have space to work in and had swiftly rolled the wrapping paper out, he had quite a lot to do and given how tired he had been, he had not wanted to waste any more precious time before he would be able to eat and crawl into bed.

His phone had rung just as he had been in the process of taping the wrapping paper shut around the first present and he had let out an annoyed sound, as he would most definitely be forced to start over again if he would answer the call. He had eventually managed to hold the folded paper down with one hand and had reached for his phone with the other, not checking who it had been that had called him before he had accepted and had raised his shoulder to pen the phone between it and his ear to have both hands free as quickly as he could. “Yes?” he had greeted, not as kindly as he could have done it.

“Sorry, am I disrupting something?” 

Leo had nearly dropped his phone when he had realised that it had been Cristiano who had been on the other end of the line, “Cris?”

His voice had been undeniably squeaky and he had blushed profusely when his boyfriend had laughed, “Oh so you don’t have my number saved? Wow, okay.” It had been meant as a joke, of course.

“I didn’t look who called,” Leo had retorted a bit abashed, “can I put you on speaker?”

“Sure bebê.” Muttering something under his breath, Leo had put Cristiano on speaker and had set his phone aside. “What are you doing?”

“I’m packing up presents.” He had grinned again, “You?”

“Just finished the work out with Ser,” Cristiano had answered and it had only been when Leo had made out the sound of the blinker that he had noticed that his boyfriend had been in his car. “What did you get me, bebê?”

“Who said that I got you anything?” _Oh you just wait_ , he had added in the silence of his mind. “I’m busy with Junior’s gifts,” Leo had quipped when he had actually been in the process of wrapping up Cristiano’s present.

The Portuguese had groaned, “Leo, bebê, _please_ tell me that you didn’t empty the entire store just for him.”

“I told you that I wouldn’t and I expect you to be proud of me that I didn’t.”

“Oh I am _very_ proud of you for not spoiling my son,” Cristiano had snorted, but he had sobered quite significally after that. “I’m glad that you decided to come,” he had said, “I mean... I would’ve understood it if you would’ve said no, because my family can be a bit much, and I’m just so happy that you’re coming.” Leo had smiled as he had taped up the wrapping paper, he had sensed that Cristiano had just needed to pour his heart out and so he had kept quiet as he had moved on to wrap the next present. “Estou animada para fazer memórias com você, bebê. Eu te amo.”

“Cristiano, I would come even if Geri and Ney wouldn’t be spending Christmas away from Barcelona.”

He could have sworn that he had heard the triumphant grin in his boyfriend’s voice even through the phone, “That’s what I hope, you’re in a relationship with _me_ and not with Piqué or Neymar. Not to mention that my mother would probably kill me if I’d try to explain it to her that you wouldn’t be coming over for the holidays.” They had continued to talk while Leo had wrapped up one present after the other and it had taken him a while to realise that Cristiano must had been driving around, because it usually would not take longer than a few minutes to drive from Ramos’ house to Cristiano’s. Leo had not mentioned it, even though he had thought that it had been a rather cute thing of his boyfriend to do. “Send me your flight number and gate, okay? I’ll come and pick you up from the airport and _no_ , I won’t accept any backtalk.”

“I wouldn’t dare to give any,” he had said, suppressing a laugh.

“That would be a new one, wouldn’t it bebê?”

༻✦༺

“Cristiano, it _has_ to be type 405 flour. Otherwise the cookies will go to waste before they’re even made!” Since Leo had booked his ticket to Madrid not even two weeks before Christmas, he had only managed to get onto one of the afternoon flights and he thus had send Cristiano to do the shopping, which had been required for the baking session that he had decided to do after his boyfriend had made a not very subtile request for him to bake cookies, while he had been waiting for the boarding of his flight to begin.

Cristiano had laughed out loud and the regular sounds of a supermarket had acted as a muffled backdrop for their phone call. “Okay okay bebê, I understood you the first time. 405, not 550.”

Leo had rolled his eyes, he really should have known that Cristiano had been used to going for the protein-rich flour. “Dios no lo quiera, the cookies would be absolutely _disgusting_ with that. Have you found it? I need one kilo, should be two packets.”

His boyfriend had snorted, “You know, I’m not appreciating you being all bossy with me right now, Leo.”

“Well if you wouldn’t have deleted the list that I send you we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?” Thank God that Leo had known all the recipes of his favourite Christmas cookies by heart.

“Você tem tanta sorte que eu te amo.”

“I love you too but that’s really not the point right now.”

“Whatever you say,” the Portugese had laughed. “Okay, I got the flour. What else do you need?”

“Baking powder, sugar, orange zest, ground al-”

“One thing after another, okay?! Fuck, I’m not a damn robot Leo!” 

Cristiano’s minor outburst had been followed by silence and Leo had bitten onto his lip when he had been hit by the realisation that his boyfriend had sounded honestly pissed off. He had decided to stop the teasing before their first Christmas together would end up in the first real argument of their relationship. “I’m sorry,” he had eventually whispered, “I didn’t want to treat you like an asshole. I’m sorry.”

Cristiano had drawn in a deep breath, had kept it in his lungs for a few seconds and had exhaled it slowly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” It had once again been silence that had followed. “Leo?”

Leo had cleared it throat, “Yeah?”

“Oh I...I thought you hung up on me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Graças a Deus,” Cristiano had said with a sigh. “Okay, I have the flour. What else do you need me to buy, bebê.”

Leo had smiled faintly once he had realised that he had not messed it all up, he had often witnessed how Gerard and Sergio would tear each other’s throats out during heated arguments and it had not been something that he had wanted to experience with Cristiano, “Baking powder.”

“Got it. Next?”

“Brown sugar.”

“How much?”

“Two packets, one kilo.” The Portuguese had let out a noncommittal sound at the other end of the line and Leo had chuckled, “It won’t go into one dough, Cristiano. Don’t worry about you and your _masterpiece of a body_.”

“Have you seen my newest photoshoot? Bebê I _am_ a masterpiece, whether you want to admit it or not.” Leo had merely rolled his eyes, but it would have been a lie if he would have claimed that Cristiano had not been right. “Good, I got the sugar.”

He had thrown a look at the display board that he had chosen to sit close to and had sighed when he saw that he still had another hour until the boarding for his flight would begin, “The section with the baking stuff should be nearby.”

“Wait...” He had listened to Cristiano’s humming as his boyfriend had looked for said section. “Ah, found it.”

“I need ground almonds.”

“Aaaalmonds, almonds, almonds, al... got them,” Cristiano had exclaimed and Leo had been able to hear how he had thrown something into the shopping cart. “Next?”

“Couverture with white, milk and dark chocolate. Two of each.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe you’re actually making me buy something like that.”

Leo had grinned at the disgust that had been audible in his boyfriend’s voice, “Sorry not sorry, but there won’t be any kale cookies on Christmas. You don’t want to traumatise your son, do you? I mean imagine if he thinks that he has a nice chocolate cookie in his hand but no it’s filled with kale. That would count as a childhood trauma.”

“Você tem tanta sorte que eu te amo, Leo. Você é tão sortudo.”

“Mhm, you already told me that.”

His heart had somersault when Cristiano had laughed at his comment as it had, after all, not been his intention to provoke any sort of argument. “Okay, I found them.”

Leo had quickly went over the list of ingredients in his mind, “We still need orange zest, eggs and butter.”

It had taken Cristiano a few moments to find the orange zest and Leo had suppressed a laugh as he had listened to the string of Portuguese curses his boyfriend had let out, “Why did they decide to put it onto the _lowest_ shelf.”

“Aw, are you too old to crouch down? Do your knees hurt, Papi?”

“Very funny bebê, just remember that you’ll be all blushing by the time that you’re with me again.” There had been a moment of heavy silence, then, “Oh you’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“The eggs.”

Cristiano had chuckled and Leo’s blush had turned into a darker shade of pink. He had pulled the hood of his hoodie further into his face. “You’re so adorable, bebê.”

“We need eggs.”

“God, I love you.”

“ _The eggs_ , Cristiano!”

“I’m getting them right now, bebê. No need to be so impatient,” his boyfriend had replied rather smugly and Leo had accompanied the roll of his eyes with a huff.

“You’re so lucky that I love you.”

“I know. Now which butter do I have to buy that won’t result in you sending me to the 24/7 store because it’s the wrong one?”

The flight to Madrid had ended up going by without any incidents, though Leo had grown considerably more impatient the closer that they had come to their destination. Between missing his Cristiano, being the best at his job and only getting to see boyfriend what had felt like once in a while, he had a hard time believing that the year had almost been over with and that he and Cristiano would celebrate their first anniversary in less than a month’s time. It would have been a year then, that Cristiano had taken him _somewhere more private to talk_ , that they had stopped pretending that they had hated each other and had not already been head over heels in love. Leo had smiled to himself when he had looked out of the window, into the evening sky and down at the lights of the city they had been flying over. If someone would have told him that there would be a time when he would... he had not finished that thought, had merely shaken his head and had concentrated on the sight below him.

Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport had been even more busy than it would have been under regular circumstances and since Leo had not been used to travel during the holidays he had been abit overwhelmed when he had made his way to the baggage carousel. He had worn an oversized CR7 hoodie under his jacket, which had enabled him to pretty much hide his face underneath the hood but his anxiety had run high at the prospect of someone recognising him nonetheless. Luck had seemed to have been on his side that time as well however and so he had managed to collect his luggage and leave the arrival hall undetected. Maybe the other travellers had just been too busy trying to get hime to their families, too excited to see their loved ones again to care about one Leo Messi.

Cristiano had told him earlier, during their phone call, that he would come with the Porsche again, as the chances of him not being spotted in his Bugatti had been slim, if not zero, so other than after the Clásico Leo had known which car he had to look out for. His heart had somersaulted when he had not only spotted Cristiano’s car, but _Cristiano_ as well. His boyfriend had stood leaned against the trunk of his Porsche with his arms crossed over his chest and a smug smile on his face. The first thing that Leo had thought about had been the possibility of paparazzi luring nearby and something had told him that, maybe, Cristiano had wanted them to get a good photo of their reunion. They had not really talked about how and when they would like to make their relationship public. James and Neymar had waited for no longer than six months but... it had been different with Cristiano and him.

Leo had made sure that the hood had hidden his face, and the closer he had come to Cristiano the stronger his heart had beaten. My God, he had been so in love with him. Cristiano’s smile had turned into a grin and he had pushed himself off the trunk; Leo had not known what he had expected, but Cristiano hugging him right there on the parking lot had not been it. He had gasped in both surprise and shock, but had not hesitated to close his arms around the Portuguese in return. He could not have been bothered by any paparazzi in that moment. “I missed you,” Cristiano had whispered and Leo had felt the kiss which had been placed onto the top of his head through the fabric of the hood.

“I missed you too.”

“Get in the car and let me take care of your bags, bebê.” Leo had nodded and had stepped away to hurry to get into the car while Cristiano had put his suitcases into the trunk. They had grinned at each other after the older man had plopped down onto the driver’s seat and that time it had been Leo who had taken the initiative, had leaned over, had cupped his boyfriend’s face and had kissed him. Cristiano had responded by guiding his hands into Leo’s hood to caress his cheeks and Leo had felt him smiling against his lips. He had been home, right in that moment he had come home. “Junior’s waiting for you, bebê. Let’s get your home.”

“Is your mother watching him?”

“Yes.”

Leo had hummed when Cristiano had kissed him once more before he had started the car and had reversed the Porsche out of the parking slot. Cristiano had put his right hand onto its designated place on Leo’s thigh and Leo had intertwined their fingers together, finding grounding in the simple gesture. Cristiano had swiftly driven the Porsche onto the driveway thirty minutes later, and Leo’s face had been nearly split by the grin that had grown on his face when he had spotted Junior standing at the kitchen window.

He had been able to see that the boy had been laughing, as Junior had given a toothy smile while he had slapped his small hands against the window. “I guess that I’m not the only one who’s excited to see you,” Cristiano had snorted. Leo had not answered to his boyfriend’s comment, had instead waved at Junior and his heart had leapt when the toddler had enthusiastically waved back at him with both hands. The Portuguese had looked between his boyfriend and his young son and had shaken his head once, though the corners of his mouth had twitched and he had not even tried to hide his smile.

Not needing to be told to do so, Leo had gotten out of the car and had gotten his rucksack out of the trunk before Cristiano had downright ordered him to go inside, stating that he would take care of the suitcase. The front door had been opened and Dolores had come into sight, holding a squirming Junior in her arms. Leo’s grin had grown impossibly wider as he had made his way over to them. “Leo!”, Junior had shouted with an excited squeal. “Hello Leo, hello Leo! Avó, Leo!” Cristiano had told him about the progress that Junior had made with his speech, of course, but Leo had still been a bit surprised by the greeting.

“Yes meu amor, Leo is here again!” Dolores had spoken before Leo had the chance to and he had offered him once of her kind smiles and a hug, latter which he had eagerly accepted, “How are you, docinho?”

“Very good, thank you,” he had answered, and it had been the truth. He had not been able to remember any of his worries then that he had been in Madrid. “How are you?”

Dolores had let go of him and had pulled back to pat his cheek, “As good as always.”

“Leeeooo!”

Leo had smiled at Cristiano’s mother before he had shifted his attention to the boy who had given his grandmother a hard time with his squirming in an attempt to reach Leo. “Hey niño,” he had said, taking Junior into his arms and hugging him close. He had let out a small sigh when the toddler had allowed him to hold him so close. “You’re getting _so big_ , niño. Soon I won’t be able to hold you!”

“Me no big!”

Laughing, Leo had kissed Junior’s chubby cheek, succeeding at making the boy giggle, “No big? You’re still small, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” The toddler’s curls had bounced when he had shaken his head, “No big.”

“Oh I’m sorry niño, of course you’re still small and I’ll still be able to hold you the next time that I see you. I’m sorry.” Leo had hugged Junior again as he had turned around to watch Cristiano, who had carried his quite large and heavy suitcase inside before he had closed the door behind him with a sigh.

“Thank you,” Cristiano had said, greeting his mother witha kiss to her cheek. “Tudo certo?”

“Como sempre. Você deve cuidar do seu namorado agora, Cris.”

“Era isso que eu queria fazer.”

Leo had raised a questioning eyebrow but had kept his comment about how he had not really appreciated the way that the had been left out of the conversation, and had instead walked off to find out where Cristiano had put the groceries he had bought earlier. Junior had still been in his arms, babbling about, and the toddler had cooed as he had rested his head on Leo’s shoulder and had grabbed at Leo’s oversized hoodie with his small hands. “I missed you niño,” Leo had whispered, gently stroking Junior’s back.

“Play?” had come the chirping question from his shoulder, and he had huffed a laugh.

“I will play with you later, or rather tomorrow, okay? But how about you help me and your Avó with the cookies we want to bake for tomorrow?”

“Coo-ies?”

“Yeah, cookies. If you promise that you won’t tell your Pai I’ll allow you to have some of the dough.” Junior had looked up at him as if he had just promised him the blue of the sky even though the boy probably had not understood it, and Leo had grinned as the had taken Junior’s by the chin and had audibly smooched his cheek, making him giggle, “Well since you promised _so nicely_ I’ll make you a portion of the dough without the egg so that you can eat a bit more of it. Would you like that?”

“Yes! Coo-ies!”

Leo had unconsciously taken the route through the living room and the dining area, so as if he had needed to make sure that everything had been as he had left it the last time, and he had stopped in his tracks once he had reached the kitchen. While he had felt a bit annoyed about the way that Cristiano and Dolores had engaged in a conversation about him - they had both known that he had neither understood nor spoken Portuguese, said annoyance had disappeared into thin air when he had spotted the baking ingredients that someone, presumably Cristiano, had put out onto the kitchen table. His eyes had caught a small post-it note which had been sticked onto one of the flour packets and his brows had pulled together in confusion as he had pulled it off. _Welcome home bebê <3_ it had read, and he had failed to stop himself from flinching when an arm had suddenly wrapped itself around his waist from behind. He had caught himself within the same second, however, and so he had not made a sound when his neck had been kissed.

“I’m sorry,” Cristiano had whispered against his skin, “for earlier, I mean. I really didn’t want to snap at you like I did on the phone.”

Leo had let out a confused sound and had turned around to look at Cristiano, more than just a bit surprised when he had seen open remorse on his boyfriend’s face. “It’s okay,” he had said, heaving Junior a bit higher onto his hip before he had reached up to cup Cristiano’s cheek. The Portuguese had given him a quick smile, so as if he had not been convinced, but had leaned down and had kissed Leo.

They had only parted when Dolores had laughed from behind them, “I’m sorry Cristiano, but your boyfriend promised that he’d spend the next two hours with _me_.”

Cristiano had responded by laying his arm around Leo’s waist once again and by kissing the younger man’s temple, “Is it really necessary, Mãe?”

Leo had laughed out loud and had wriggled out of his boyfriend’s hold, changing the way that he had been holding Junior before he had addressed the toddler, “Do you want to stay with me and your Avó or do you want to go and play with your Pai, niño? Your Pai won’t be allowed in here while we bake.”

“Excuse me?”

Dolores had cocked an eyebrow in a very similar manner than Cristiano had always done it, “Don’t think that I didn’t tell Leo about the time that you tried to bake me a cake for Mother’s Day.” Oh and she had told him, and Leo had smirked as he had watched how Cristiano had tried, and failed, to come up with something that he could have retorted to the reproach. He would have been interested in trying to hear his boyfriend’s explanation as for why he had thought that he could bake a chocolate cake without any sugar.

“Okay,” Cristiano had eventually said, an undeniable hint of resignation lacing his voice, “I’ll bring your stuff upstairs and play FIFA, bebê.”

“Don’t open my suitcase,” Leo had chirped.

It had earned him an unamused look from Cristiano, “Don’t worry, I’m too old to peek at the presents.” He had watched Cristiano leave and while he had been certain that he had heard him mutter something under his breath, he would not have sworn on it.

“Don’t worry docinho,” Dolores had said, “he’s not actually mad at you.”

“Oh I know,” Leo had retorted, quick to let her know that his skin had not been so thin. “I missed him a lot, but we can’t have him in the kitchen or the cookies will be ruined.”

Cristiano’s mother had laughed, had patted his cheek and had moved to wash her hands in the sink. Leo had wanted to do the same so that they would be able to start with the baking, but Junior had let out a cry of protest when he had put the toddler down and so he had bend down to kiss the top of his head and promise him that it he will pick him right back up in a minute before he had hurried to wash his hands. The two-year-old had hugged one of Leo’s legs and had whimpered, obviously wanting to be picked up. “Leo. Leo up, Leo!”

Leo had quickly dried his hands off with the intended towel and had crouched right back down to get the toddler into his arms again. “Come here niño,” he had muttered and Junior’s teary whining had stopped the second that Leo had lifted him off the floor, causing him to snort.

Junior had giggled when he had grabbed at Leo’s shirt, “Leo!”

“You’re _unbelievable_ , niño.” He had sat the babbling toddler down onto the kitchen counter, closer to the wall than the edge so that he would not have to worry about Junior falling off by accident, while he had told Dolores what ingredients they had needed for the first batch of cookies. They had switched places so that Cristiano’s mother had been watching her grandson while Leo had begun to knead flour, brown sugar, orange zest and butter into a dough. His relationship with his mother may not have been a great one and the contact between them had pretty much died down, but he had remembered that she had always made the dough by hand instead of with a mixer, as it would help the sugar to properly be dissolved.

Dolores and Leo had talked while he had kneaded the dough for a good few minutes, and she had looked a bit confused maybe even outraged when he had asked her if she knows whether Cristiano had chocolate chips stashed somewhere. “I won’t bake chocolate chip cookies,” he had laughed. She would have had every right to be outraged if he would have proposed chocolate chip cookies as Christmas cookies. “I promised Junior a bit of the dough and I thought that-”

“Oh!” Dolores had smiled and had given a nod, “Cristiano doesn’t eat them, of course, but I bought them for Junior.” Cristiano’s mother had rummaged through a drawer and had handed Leo the package chocolate chips a moment later.

Leo, who had since divided a small part of the dough off and had wrapped the rest of it in cling wrap so that it could rest for a few minutes, has sprinkled an appropriate amount of the chocolate chips over the dough that he would allow Junior to eat. He had kneaded it for a minute or so longer, until the chocolate had been a bit melted, before he had taken one of Junior’s bowls and had put the dough into it. Junior’s excited squeal and grabby hands had made him laugh. “Leeeooo!”

“How about I work on the dough and you take Junior, docinho?”

Leo initially had wanted to agree immediately, but he had remembered the amount of work he would put onto Dolores’ shoulders, “Nono it’s fine, I can-”

“Leo.”

He had fallen silent and had blushed a bit when she had given him a knowing smile, and he had not said another word of contradiction before they had switched positions again. Junior had squealed with laughter and had clapped his small hands together in excitement while Leo had taken out one of the toddler’s spoons. “Coo-ie!” Leo had given the spoon to Junior to encourage him to eat on his own and had put the bowl down into the toddler’s lap, though keeping a steady hold on it so that it could not have kicked down by accident. “Hmm.”

“Yes niño, hmm,” he had laughed, leaning over to kiss Junior’s forehead. Leo had ended up needing to help Junior with getting little portions of the dough onto his spoon after the two-year-old had protested with low whine, and he had been so engrossed in the conversation which had been going on with Dolores, who had been cutting out cookies from the rolled-out dough, that he had not noticed how Cristiano had come to stand in the door.

Leo also had not noticed that his boyfriend had taken a photo of them; he had only looked over his shoulder when Junior had pointed his spoon at his father before he had held it out for Leo to take it again, “Pai!” Shaking his head, Leo had suppressed a laugh and had combed a hand through Junior’s curls, he should have known that Cristiano would not be able to stay away from the kitchen like they told him to.

Cristiano had kissed Leo’s cheek before he had moved to look over his mother’s shoulder, “They look good, Mãe.”

“Of course they do,” Leo had said with a laugh, “it’s my family’s recipe.” He had deliberately not looked at Cristiano when he had scooped up a bit more of the chocolate chip cookie dough and had given the spoon to Junior, who had brought it to his mouth with a delighted squeal.

Cristiano had come to stand behind him, had loosely wrapped his arms around his waist and had watched what he had been doing. To Leo’s surprise, he had not said anything about the cookie dough that he had been feeding to the toddler. “O sabor é bom?” Junior had nodded, his eyes firmly fixed on the promising bowl, and Cristiano had snorted before he had kissed Leo’s cheek, “Have fun then.”

It had taken Leo and Dolores almost three hours to get all of the different doughs done, as some of them had needed to rest for up to an hour, and the cookies backed and by the time that they had finished cleaning up the kitchen and had put the last cooled down batch of cookies into the last available cookie jar, Cristiano had already left to put Junior to bed and Leo had felt rather exhausted himself. “That would be all,” Dolores had said with a drawled-out sigh after Leo had dried off the last of the cookie cutters. “Finally.”

Before Leo had gotten around to answer, the smile on Dolores’ face had suddenly turned rather sad and Leo had been so confused, shocked and overwhelmed at the same time that he had merely stood there when Cristiano’s mother had quickly turned around. It had been too late, he had still seen how she had wiped at her eyes. “Dolores?” She had quickly torn off a piece of kitchen roll. “Are-Are you okay? Do you want me to get Cristiano?”

“Oh no I’m fine, docinho, I’m fine.” The fact that Dolores had dabbed at her eyes after she had turned back around to face Leo had not really underlined the truth of what she had said and Leo had felt embarrassingly helpless when even more tears had welled in her eyes. A few moments of silence had followed, then, “José, he always helped me with the baking during Christmas.” Dolores had let out a laugh that had been a choked sob more than anything else, “When the children were small and we didn’t have much we still tried to give them a great Christmas and...” Leo had hugged her, sensing that she had not been all to comfortable with her emotional outburst and while it had come a bit surprising, he had understood it.

He had known how much the loss of a loved one hurt. Dolores had hugged him back. “I’m just really happy that you’re here with us.” Her saying that had surprised him even more than her tears and he had stayed silent when she had hugged him a bit tighter. “You make Cristiano happy, docinho. Very, very happy. He’s trying to hide it from his mother, of course,” Dolores had let out another teary laugh and had pulled back from the embrace, “but I can’t remember if I’ve ever seen him so content. He loves you, even more than he loves the way that you’re treating Junior.” There had been a smile on her face when she had reached out and had squeezed his hand, even though her tears yet had to disappear. “Excuse my sentiment, I’m just really happy for you and Cristiano. And José...” Dolores had squeezed Leo’s hand again, “he doesn’t speak about him, does he?”

Leo had shaken his head; Cristiano had mentioned his father at a few scarce occasions, but he never would have forced him to speak. He had known, after all, that it had been a sore spot for his boyfriend. “No,” he had said, “but it’s fine.”

“You are becoming like a third son to me, docinho.” Leo had not really held back about how his relationship with his own parent had pretty much laid in shambles and Cristiano’s mother had always been understanding. It had suddenly been him who had found himself in the position of blinking back tears when Dolores had cupped his cheek. There had not been a need for either of them to speak, and so they had only smiled at each other until Dolores had pulled her hand back and had set out to get her handbag. “Good night, Leo.”

“Good night.” He had let out a breath he had not even been aware of having held in when he had heard the front door closing with a _click_. He had spend the next minute or so leaned against the counter with his face hidden behind his hand, just trying to collect himself again, and he had ended up washing his face right there in the kitchen sink before he had turned off the light, had made sure that the alarm system had been turned on and had moved upstairs.

There had been humming coming from the end of the corridor, where Junior’s room had been, and Leo had smiled to himself as he had stood there for a few moments, simply listening to Cristiano’s humming his son to sleep. He had only snapped out of it when he had heard footfalls and he might have hurried to the bathroom a bit too fast for it to have been inconspicuous, but he really had not wanted Cristiano to find out that he had cried. Leo had washed his face one more time before he had reached for the toothbrush that Cristiano had bought for him and had set out to prepare himself for the early night that his boyfriend and him had already decided on. Considering how strenuous the following day would probably turn out to be, Leo had welcomed the chance of getting a little bit of extra sleep.

By the time that he had left the bathroom, Cristiano had already been in the process of getting out of his clothes. “It’s already _two hours_ past his bedtime and he still didn’t want to sleep,” had been what Leo had been greeted with, “and I _bet_ that it’s because of all the sugar that _you_ allowed him to eat.”

Letting out an inaudible sigh of relief when had not asked him about the redness of his eyes, Leo had crouched down in front of his suitcase to get his pyjamas out, “There’s not that much sugar in the dough.”

“Yeah no I don’t believe you. Ugh, how can anyone eat that?”

“I’ll just ignore the fact that you insulted my baking skills.”

“I didn’t do that, Leo.” Leo had merely hummed as he had closed his suitcase again, making sure that the compartment with the presents had been on top. He had felt his boyfriend’s eyes on him while he had undressed. While it had not been a new feeling and he had nothing to hide either, he had still blushed when he had slipped the oversized hoodie over his head, having decided to do without his pyjama pants, and had climbed onto the bed and into the embrace that Cristiano had offered to him. He had settled halfway draped across Cristiano, using their height difference to his full advantage, closing his eyes when one of his boyfriend’s hands had instantly found its way into his hair. Cristiano had turned off the nightstand lamp before he had pulled the duvet over the both of them and had kissed the top of Leo’s head, getting himself into a more comfortable position, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Tired?”

“Mhm.”

The Portuguese had chuckled and had kissed him again, “Good night, bebê.”

**_Christmas Eve, 24. December 2015._**

Leo had been nervous, and definitely more so than he had been willing to admit to himself as he had stood in front of the large mirror in Cristiano’s bedroom and had tugged the hem of his dress shirt into his trousers. Cristiano’s family had been due to arrive for the Christmas Eve celebrations in no more than ten minutes and Leo had not known whether he had ever been so nervous in his life. Preparing to get on stage to give a speech for his first ever award win had been _nothing_ in comparison, or so he had thought in that very moment.

He must had been fixing his shirt for the tenth time but there had always been something that he had not been satisfied with and that time, it had been a crease which he usually would not have minded, but which had been unnerving him to no end then. Leo had paired the burgundy dress shirt he had bought just for the occasion with a simply but fitting pair of black trousers, it had been nothing too fancy but appropriate for the first Christmas Eve with his boyfriend’s family. Junior had been sitting on the floor beside him, playing with a few of his dinosaur toys and his Barça teddy while Leo had grown increasingly more nervous and Cristiano had been downstairs, preparing the last few little things. “What do you say, niño?”, Leo had muttered as he had looked at himself in the mirror. His shoulders had slumped a bit, he had known that he had acted ridiculous. He had been about to meet Cristiano’s siblings and their partners, for God’s sake! “How do I look?”

“You look _good_ , bebê.” Leo had winced and blushed, not having expected Cristiano to suddenly turn up in the door of the bedroom, “I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about it.” Due to the grin that had been present on his boyfriend’s face, Leo had known that he had only said that to tease him and possibly lift his spirits a bit. He had sighed and had turned back around towards the mirror, and his head had slightly tipped forward when Cristiano had moved to stand behind him. The Portuguese had rested his hands on his hips. “Bebê,” he had whispered, causing Leo’s breath to hitch as he had spoken those words against his neck. Leo had closed his eyes when Cristiano had kissed a spot low on his neck, “You look _beautiful_. I mean it, you know. Just like I meant it when I said that you really don’t have to be so nervous about meeting my siblings.”

“I know,” Leo had answered, his voice just as low as Cristiano’s, “but I can’t help it.”

His boyfriend had responded by slowly closing his arms around his narrow waist, looking at their reflection in the mirror. Leo had also known that what Cristiano had seen - himself, Leo and Junior - had been what he had wanted to see for a long time and for Leo it had not been any different. If someone would have told him, just a year ago, that he would have a little family like the one that he had gained when Cristiano and him had found each other in the way that they had meant to find each other, Leo would have flipped them off. But there he had been. Cristiano had hummed and had tightened the hold he had on Leo to pull him closer against him, “I love you, bebê.”

Leo had been kissed onto the cheek. “I love you too.” 

“We should probably go downstairs, they’ll be here any minute now.”

“Okay.” Cristiano had kissed his cheek once more before he had let go of him, and Leo had bend down to swiftly pick Junior up.

“Pwesents?”

Laughing, he had ruffled through the toddler’s hair. He had only barely stopped the full-blown tantrum that Junior had been about to run into when he had brought the presents down into the living room, where Cristiano and Dolores had set up and decorated the Christmas tree, by carrying the toddler around for a good half an hour, “Soon niño, you can open them soon.”

With Junior settled on his hip, Leo had followed Cristiano downstairs. The entire lower floor had been festively decorated by Cristiano and Dolores, so as if they had wanted to make sure that there had been no work for him left except for the baking, which Leo had not really viewed as work. He had smooched Junior’s cheek before he had set him down, though the toddler had continued to hold onto his hand while he had securely hugged his Barça teddy with his free arm. “They’re here,” Cristiano had suddenly exclaimed and Leo had, out of reflex, lifted Junior into his arms while his boyfriend had opened the front door for his family.

Leo had immediately recognised the man that Cristiano had been hugged by as Cristiano’s brother, “Muito tempo sem ver irmão!” 

“Seja legal com ele, ele está tão nervoso que está prestes a morrer.”

“Por que eu seria mau com ele? É assim que você pensa de mim?”

“Stop it you two or so help me!” Dolores had called out from where Leo had not been able to see her.

Both Cristiano and his brother had grumbled but had eventually ended both their teasing and their embrace and Leo had tried to stay calm when Cristiano’s brother had walked over to him. The man had switched the gift bag he had been holding over to his left hand in order to offer his right hand for Leo to take it, “I’m Hugo.”

“Leo,” Leo had said, most unnecessarily so, and had shaken Hugo’s hand. The older man had smiled at him before he had shifted his attention to his nephew, but Hugo had not tried to take Junior from Leo and had instead only pinched the toddler’s cheek before he had disappeared into the direction of the living room, probably to place the presents he had brough underneath the Christmas tree. Since Leo had watched him go, he had been a bit surprised when he had suddenly been embraced, though had relaxed as soon as he had realised that it had been Dolores.

“Mãe you saw him just yesterday.”

Dolores had clicked her tongue when she had been scolded by Cristiano and had pulled back for the sole reason of getting to pat Leo’s cheek, leaving him all blushed when she had walked off and one of Cristiano’s sisters had taken turn with greeting him. “Elma,” she had laughed, smiling and actually giving him a little wink. “I already know who you are, of course. Cris here doesn’t ever shut up about you.” Elma’s comment had made Leo laugh. The majority of his nervousness had fallen off his shoulders in that moment. 

“And I’m Katia,” the woman from behind her had said and instead of shaking hands, they had just greeted each other with a simly hand gesture. “Liliana Cátia, actually, but no one calls me that.”

“Eu já disse isso a ele,” Cristiano had interjected.

Katia, too, had winked at Leo before she had turned around to glare at her younger brother, “Cale a boca e deixe-me apresentar-me ao seu namorado. Ele é muito fofo para você de qualquer maneira, seu burro.”

Leo had cleared his throat and had deliberately shifted his attention to Junior, just brushing his lips against the toddler’s temple. He had always felt uncomfortable when he would not be able to understand what had been talked about around him and he had been more relieved than he would have admitted it when Cristiano had moved over to him and had laid an arm around his waist. “I thought that they’re coming with their partners,” Leo had whispered once Cristiano’s siblings had been out of earshot, but instead of giving him a proper answer Cristiano had kissed him before he had begun to lead him into the living room with a gentle but determinging hand in the small of Leo’s back.

By the time that Leo and Cristiano had reached the living room, Cristiano’s family had already made themselves comfortable on the spacious couch in a way that had told Leo that it must have been some sort of ritual for them and he had only blushed a bit when Dolores had patted the empty space on the couch between her, wordlessly offering it to him. Leo had looked at Cristiano, halfheartedly hoping for his boyfriend to ask him to help him in the kitchen, but the older man had merely placed a quick kiss onto his lips before he had pulled his hand away from the small of his back. “Sit down bebê, I’ll go and make the tea.”

Nodding, he had walked over to the couch and had sat down beside Dolores, drawing Junior into his lap. He had felt every pair of eyes on him when the toddler had cooed softly and had nestled against his chest, hugging his Barça teddy close. A bit of an awkward conversation had established while Cristiano had been in the kitchen, with Dolores and Cristiano’s siblings talking while Leo had kept quiet and had only hummed in agreement every then and there, paying the most attention to the babbling Junior. It had gotten better once Cristiano had returned, passing out cups of tea and setting down plates with the cookies that Leo and Dolores had baked the evening earlier. He had claimed a seat beside his brother and had shot Leo an encouraging smile which Leo had returned.

“Coo-ies! Coo-ies!” The toddler’s outburst had been so sudden that Leo had nearly choked on his mouthful of tea and it had only been thanks to Dolores that the cup had been put back down onto the table instead of breaking on the floor, “Coo-ies! Leo, coo-ies!”

Leo had given a small laugh and had leaned over to take the nearest plate of cookies from the coffee table. He had kissed the top of Junior’s head, “Which one would you like, niño?” Junior, acting like the two-year-old he had been, had squealed and had carelessly discarded his stuffed animal to grab two handfuls of the baked treats at once.

They had sat like that for more than an hour, just drinking tea, eating cookies and laughing at the little anecdotes that Dolores had been sharing about the time when her children had been younger. There had been a short moment of silence every now and then, when Leo had suggested that they had thought about the member of their family that had been missing, but not a single tear had actually been shed. Leo had cuddled with Junior, who had never left his lap, the entire time, something that the toddler had probably only allowed him to do because he had been allowed to nibble at cookies and by the time that Dolores had exclaimed that it had been time for them to open the presents, Junior had nearly been lulled into sleep after Leo had started to rock him a few minutes earlier.

“Pwesents?” Every ounce of tiredness had fallen off the two-year-old when he had heard his grandmother say that and Leo had laughed as he had set him down onto his feet, watching how Junior had ran over to the Christmas tree. Out of the corner of his eye Leo had seen how Cristiano already had his phone in his hand before Junior had even grabbed the first of the presents. Leo, Cristiano and the others had eventually stood and had sat down in a semicircle around the tree instead. There had been quite a lot of presents, though there had been absolutely no mistaking that the large majority of them had been designated for Junior. If it would not have been for Cristiano’s son, Leo had been sure that none of them would have went through such an extend with the preparations in the first place. Junior had opened the presents that his father had gotten for him first; Leo had already known that Cristiano had bought him a few age-appropriate Playmobil sets and he had found himself giddy from excitement about what Cristiano’s reaction to his present would be.

While Junior had unpacked one of the toys that Leo had bought for him, Leo had given Dolores the cooking which had been a wish of hers. He had been sure that Cristiano had taken a photo of his she had hugged him and how bright the blush on his face had turned when she had held him in the embrace for a good minute, “Thank you, docinho. It’s just the one that I wanted.”

All of them had laughed when it had turned out that Dolores had bought Leo a book on the Portuguese kitchen in return. Cristiano’s present to him been a set of Real hoodies that had been due to hit the market with the beginning of the coming season, and while Leo had rolled his eyes after he had unwrapped them, he had still moved over to where Cristiano had been sitting to kiss him. “So,” he had said once he had been back on his place, and he had made a playfully dramatic pause when he had reached for the three gifts that yet had to be unwrapped. Junior had made grabby hands at them, though Leo had only ruffled through his curls at first. “These two,” he had said, pushing two of the presents into Junior’s direction, “are for you, niño, and _this_ one,” Leo had grinned from ear to ear when he had held the other wrapped-up gift out for Cristiano to take it, “is for you Pai,” and he had already been laughing at the look on Cristiano’s face when the Barça attire had come to light.

“Bebê-”

“It’s so adorable,” Elma had exclaimed. “Look at the little gloves, Cris!”

She had not seemed to mind it that her comment had been ignored by her brother. Upon having opened his present, Cristiano had stared at it for a few seconds as if he had not been able to believe that something like the jersey had existed in the first place, “I am not wearing this.” Leo had pouted and had squealed, though he had not really tried, to scramble away when Cristiano had grabbed him by the wrist and had pulled him so that he had been sitting on his boyfriend’s lap. “Thank you bebê,” Cristiano had whispered, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, “I love it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shitty ending, but this chapter gave me such a hard time... Jesus...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter took me such a long time to write. Quarantine isn't exactly helping with my mental health plus I've been sick with a stomach flu and pretty much unable to leave my bed for the past week and a half. 
> 
> I also know that this is far from the best thing I ever wrote (it just feels bumpy), but I love this story too much to ever abandon it so I'm glad that I managed to get a bit of writing done at all :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**New Year's Eve, 31. December 2015.**_

It had been a teary affair when Leo had left Madrid on December 30th. Over the week that he had spend with Cristiano and their little patchwork families Junior had grown so used to having Leo, and thus someone who had always been there and willing to play with him no matter what, around and oh, how it had broken Leo’s heart when Junior had broken into tears when he had told him that he could not play with him because he had to leave to get to the airport on time. Junior may not have been older than two and a half years but there had been absolutely no doubt that the toddler had very well understood that Leo would not be coming back for a good while. 

Leaving Cristiano and Junior behind in Madrid had already been hard enough for Leo, but hearing Junior cry out for him had positively broken his heart and so it had been both Leo and Cristiano who had blinked back tears when Cristiano had held his crying son in his arms in a futile attempt to calm him down. “Leo! Le-eo! Leo!” the toddler had cried as if his little heart had just been broken while he had desperately tried to get a hold of Leo, reaching out for him with grabby hands. “Le-e-eo!”

Leo had stood there a bit unsure what to do, considering to take Junior into his arms one last time but since he had known that it only would have made it worse, he had forced himself to stand frozen to the spot, “I’m sorry niño, but I...”

“Go now,” Cristiano had said, and even if Leo would not have seen the tears that had stood in his boyfriend’s eyes he would have been able to hear them laced on his voice. “You can’t miss your flight, bebê. Go, we’ll be okay.”

The lump in his throat had threatened to suffocate him when he had taken his suitcase and had left the house, only to listen to Junior’s desperate crying through the front door after he had pulled it close behind him. Cristiano had done the right thing by telling him to go, if he would not have been told to, Leo probably never would have managed to leave. How he had hated their profession in that moment because the only reason as for why he had to leave on the 30th had been the fact that Cristiano’s and his relationship had not made been public yet.

Just like every year, there would be a grand party on New Year’s Eve that all of the players had been expected to attend to and while Leo had managed to stay out of for Christmas, he never would have been able to stay away from the party without triggering an entirely new wave of speculations, questions and accusations. After he had made a public statement on Instagram about the end of his relationship with Antonella, the press and his fanbase had gone on a field trip, overwhelming him with questions about why they had decided that their time together had come to an end and if there had already been another woman in Leo’s life so much that he eventually had been forced to restrict the comment section for a good few days. Sure, given the spotlight that he had been standing in he had understood that they had been curious about why the end of his relationship had come so suddenly, but it, on the other hand, had been none of their business either. So with that background, Leo really had no other choice than to attend the party. 

If he had blamed Cristiano for not having taken the initiative and revealing their relationship? No. He had been there when the shitstorm had broken out after Neymar and James had made their relationship public, had listened to countless of hours of his best friend sobbing because the stress had been so overwhelming. For Leo and Cristiano, the situation had been a lot more difficult than that. Neymar and James had never been considered enemies and there had never been such a large controversy about whether they had even been on speaking terms, so Leo never would have blamed Cristiano for having decided to keep their relationship a secret one.

It had not been as if he since had not become used to hiding. Whether it had been his emotions, his fears, his struggles or then his relationship with Cristiano, he had been familiar with it ever since he had been a teenager. It had, however, been moments like the one where Leo had to leave even though he could have stayed for another week had made him wish that they would not have been forced to hide the love that they had shared. 

Leo never had a less enjoyable New Year’s Eve to that day, even though the party in itself had not been all that bad and he had a great time with his friends and teammates. Neymar and Gerard had come back to Barcelona for the occasion as well, and Neymar had been the only one who had been able to bring his boyfriend along without causing a scandal that would have shaken the entire football world. It had been helpful to have Gerard there, as they had both been in the same boat and Gerard thus had not asked him about why he had not been in the mood to celebrate, and they had stayed together for the majority of the evening, quietly talking about how the week that they had spend with their respective boyfriends had gone by.

Gerard had told him about his time on Sergio’s ranch in Sevilla and Leo had listened to it as if he had not already been told about it on the phone while Gerard had, in return, not rolled his eyes if Leo had happened to tell the same story about how much fun he had with Junior for the dozenth time. It had been just past eleven when they had retreated to the terrace of Luis’ house, where the party had actually ended up taking place after the official Champagne reception had been over with. “How did it go?”, Gerard had asked him and Leo had sensed that he had wanted him to answer in regards to Cristiano, not Junior.

“Good,” Leo had answered. He had mustered a small smile as he had pulled his jacket tighter around him and had looked up into the starry night, “I had a great time.” The Argentine had not even tried to hide the hint of sadness that had been lacing his voice, well aware that his best friend would have caught it anyway if he would have tried.

“It’s only getting harder for you, isn’t it? Being apart from Cristiano all the time?”

There had been a moment of silence before he had snorted and had shaken his head, though not in negation of what Gerard had stated. He never could have denied it, “How do you do it, Geri?”

The older man had shrugged and had scooted closer to him, taking a restorative sip from his beer. “It doesn’t get easier,” he had said, “but you do get used to it eventually. It took me a while, too.”

Leo had absentmindedly played around with the Rolex that Cristiano had bought him for Valentine’s Day. “Junior cried when I left,” he had whispered, his gaze still turned up at the stars, “and that’s the worst thing, you know? He’s two years old, Geri, he doesn’t understand why I’m always leaving and when I come back it’s always just to leave again and...” Leo had shaken his head once more, “I don’t know how it’ll go on with us.”

Gerard had eyed him from the side and Leo had been thankful when his friend had laid an arm over his shoulder and had hugged him close for a moment. He had really needed it right then, even if he never would have admitted it. “But... you and Cristiano are alright, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Leo had huffed a laugh. “I can’t believe that it’s almost been a year.”

“When’s your anniversary again? January...?”

“Twelfth.”

Gerard had pulled his arm back and had smirked down at Leo, “Be honest, did you think that _that_ would ever happen?”

“No,” Leo had thrown his head back as he had laughed, “no, I definitely didn’t.” He had bitten his lower lip, “And... I didn’t tell you and Ney the entire truth.”

The Catalan’s eyebrows had pulled together, so as if he had tried to decide whether he had been offended by it or not, “In regards to what?”

Leo had been glad that they had been sitting on the terrace, as he had hoped that his blush would thus gone by unseen, and he had cleared his throat, “How.... Cris and I got together.”

His best friend had continued to look at him while sipping at his beer, “You told us that you two talked and that he kissed you.”

“Well, we did talk and he did kiss me but... I gave him a blowjob in the bathroom.” 

Leo had blushed even more after he had nearly stumbled over his words and he had ducked his head when Gerard had nearly choked on his sip of beer, “You did _what?_ ”

“I-I gave him a blowjob.”

“That explains why he was so ridiculously happy when Ser and I met him,” the Catalan had laughed. “Jesus, Leo. I mean I knew that you had a crush on him but I never would’ve thought that you’d suck him off after he literally stole the Ballon d’Or from you last year.”

That time, it had been Leo who had been left spluttering, “He didn’t _steal_ it from me Geri, he deserved to win it last year. And was my crush really so obvious?”

He had groaned quietly when his best friend had ruffled through his hair. “For someone who knows you as long as I do? And in hindsight? Oh yes, definitely. It’s always been you and Ronaldo,” Gerard had said with a laugh, “all those years it’s been you and him in more than one way.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“But I mean... I don’t have a problem with it as long as he doesn’t treat you badly.”

“He’s treating me good, don’t worry about it.”

Gerard had let out a hearty chuckle, “Well he better, because I told him that I’ll break his legs if he ever dares to break your heart.”

They had been interrupted when a rather drunk Luis had opened the patio door, “What are you two lovebirds doing out here all alone, huh? Come in, don’t be spoilsports!” Leo and Gerard would have been offended by being called love birds if it would not have been Luis that had called him that, and so they had only rolled their eyes.

“We’ll be there in a minute.”

“Good, because we’re starting a new round of Never Have I Ever and you have to play with us.”

Their friend had disappeared out of sight again and while Gerard had stood from the bench with a sigh, obviously ready to go back inside, Leo had pulled out his phone. “Give me a moment, okay?” His best friend had nodded and Leo had unlocked his phone to open Cristiano’s chat; he had typed a quick message even though he had known that Cristiano probably had not been on his phone in that moment, [I’m sorry that I had to leave 😪 I love you, give Junior a kiss from me!]

As Luis had threatened, Leo and Gerard had been pretty much forced to participate in the game of Never Have I Ever. It had been obvious that it had been little more than an excuse for them to consume a generous amount of alcohol. They had sat in a circle on the floor of Luis’ spacious living room - Leo, Gerard, Neymar, Luis, James and Marc-André had been playing that round, but whenever it had been Leo’s turn to drink, he had made sure that he had only taken small sips of his drink. He had not wanted to get drunk and accidentally spill out how much he had missed a certain someone, and it had all only been made worse by the fact that Neymar and James had been cuddling right there beside him while he had missed his boyfriend. Neymar had been his best friend and so Leo had not harboured any hard feelings towards him, of course, but he had been undeniably jealous that James and him had already made the step for which Cristiano and himself had not gathered the courage for yet.

It had been 11:45 by the time that they had put an end to their drinking game and Luis had turned the TV on to follow the countdown instead, something Leo had been rather relieved about, as the conversations that had begun around him had allowed him to take his only half empty drink and retreat to the back of the living room. Even though he had not been in the mood for drinking, he had still taken small sip after small sip. He had been dying to hide himself away in a corner, to take out his phone and to FaceTime Cristiano, but he had been well aware that he could not have possibly risked it. If someone would have stumbled upon him, it would have been hard to explain as for why he had been talking to Cristiano Ronaldo.

So Leo had merely stood in the far back of the room instead, absentmindedly rubbing his lips against the rim of the glass in his hand while he had followed the countdown and the show which had been running on TV with faked interest, unable to think of anything but how different his New Year’s Eve would have been if Cristiano and him would have been in different positions, if they would not have been under so much pressure. “Leo?” He had not quite winced, but he had been surprised when he had suddenly been addressed by someone and he had relaxed as soon as he had realised that it had been no other than Neymar. His best friend had been sipping at what Leo had suspected to have been a Long Island Iced Tea, though had seemed more sober than he had expected him to be. Neymar had always been the one to drink at every given opportunity.

“What’s wrong?”

His first instinct had been to say that there had not been anything wrong. Lying to Neymar, however, would have been in vain. “I miss Cristiano,” Leo had thus whispered, letting his words be followed by an uneasy sip from the drink that had not really been to his taste. He had grimaced at the burn it had left behind when it had went down his throat. “I know it’s ridiculous and I don’t want to ruin your mood but I just- _oof!_ ”

He had nearly dropped the glass when Neymar had hugged him from one second to another. “Shut up and let me hug you,” his best friend had muttered, “and don’t tell me that you don’t need it, I know when you’re lying to me.” Even though the volume in the living room had been high, as there had been a dozen conversations going on, Neymar had still kept his voice down without Leo having to remind him to do so. “Is everything okay with you and _you know who?_ Or do Geri and I need to break his legs once we’re sober?”

Leo had let out a laugh and had hugged the Brazilian back, “Yeah, it’s all good. I just wish that I could’ve stayed with them in Madrid, that’s all.”

“Maybe next year, yeah?” That he had not seen that happening, he had not said, and he had disentangled himself out of his best friend’s arms when it had been announced that the last minute of 2015 had just started. “Celebrating _with_ him will definitely be something new but I'll try to keep myself in check. For your sake only, that is,” Neymar had laughed before he had turned and had walked off. Leo had watched how his friend had moved over to where James had been sitting on one of the couches. He had needed to look away when Neymar had plonked himself down into his boyfriend’s lap and had already begun to make out with him.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!” With a suppressed grunt of disgust Leo had drowned the remainder of his drink and had set his then empty glass aside onto the windowsill, making a mental note to put it away later. “Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One - _happy New Year!_ ”

Roaring applause and laughter had broken out and had resounded throughout the room and while Leo had not really felt like it, he had forced himself to muster a wide smile. Those who had not been busy kissing their partners of hugging each other had turned around to look and raise their glasses at him, including Gerard, and to avoid any interrogation Leo had put on a brave face before he had pulled his phone out. His heart had somersaulted when he had seen that Cristiano had send him a couple of messages since he had turned it on silent mode and Leo had desperately hoped that the alcohol in his system had not caused the blush on his face to grow so dark that everyone would have noticed it as he had read the notifications.

 _Cristiano:_ [Don’t apologise bebê, I know that you would’ve stayed it you didn’t have to leave. Which sucks, that’s out of question, but I wouldn’t ever blame you for that!]

 _Cristiano:_ [Video]

 _Cristiano:_ [We miss you. Eu te amo, nunca esqueça isso 😘❤️]

Leo had used the moment when no one had been looking at him to take his glass and leave the room under the pretense of putting it away. Once he had been in the kitchen, he had made sure that no one had followed him before he had went onto Cristiano’s chat and had opened the video. A honest smile had grown on Leo’s face as soon as he had seen Junior. “Junior, olhe aqui. Aqui, olhe para o pai,” Cristiano had said from behind the camera. They had been sitting on the couch, and it had sounded as if the TV had been running in the background. Leo had barely suppressed the urge to squeal when he had seen that Junior had been wearing the jersey that he had given him as a Christmas present, and the longing he had harboured to be with his boyfriend and Cristiano’s young son had grown even larger. Unbearable, almost, because he had almost felt the weight of Junior resting on his hip and the feeling of the toddler’s hands grabbing at his shirt. “Can you say hi to Leo, meu amor?”

“Leo!” The toddler’s squeal of his name had been like balm to Leo’s soul, “Leo?”

“Ele não está aqui, meu filho, ele infelizmente teve que voltar para Barcelona.” The phone had been put down for a moment and when Junior had come back into sight, Cristiano had pulled his son into his lap. Leo’s smile had grown a bit bigger. If he had happened to blink hard, it had been due to a bit of dust that had flown into his eyes. Nothing more than that, of course. “We love you,” Cristiano had said, winking into the camera, “and we _both_ hope that you’re having a great time.” The Portuguese had laughed when his toddler son had tried to wriggle out of his lap and he had not taken his eyes off the camera, off Leo, as he had kissed the top of Junior’s head, “This little man is more than overdue to go to sleep but since my mother put him down for _two_ naps today, there’s no way that he’ll actually be in bed before midnight.”

“Leo! Leeeooo!”

“Anyway,” Cristiano had winked once more, “I miss you and I hope that you had a great start into 2016 by the time you’re watching this, bebê. Sinto sua falta e mal posso esperar para ver seu lindo rosto novamente.”

The video had ended after Cristiano had blown him a kiss and Leo had been tempted to watch it again, but he had not wanted to test his luck and had instead recorded a quick voice message, “Thank you, I love you both so much.” He had cleared his throat, trying not to sound as tipsy as he had felt, well aware of how little Cristiano had been able to stand drunk people, “I’d like to call you but I don’t know if you’re already asleep, and since I know how much you need your beauty sleep...” Leo had shaken his head, huffing a laugh, “I miss you and I wish that I wouldn’t have to wait two weeks to see you and Junior again. I love you, Cristiano.”

_**Ballon d'Or Gala, 11. January 2016.** _

It had been far from his first award ceremony, of course, but Leo had been certain that he had never been so nervous about attending one after he had won his fist major award. That year’s Ballon d’Or would be the first award ceremony of his entire career that he would attend without Antonella at his side, though it would have been a lie if he would have said that he had been nervous because of that. When he had talked to Antonella a few days before he had been due to fly to Zurich, his ex-girlfriend and current friend had offered to accompany him if he would not want to go alone. “Peter won’t mind it,” Antonella had said, referring to her new partner who had been the reason as for why she had wanted to break up with him a year ago. “I’ll explain it to him and get onto the next flight, Leo. It won’t be a problem.” 

Leo had told her that he had been dating Cristiano just shortly after he had revealed it to Neymar and Gerard, he had known that there would not ever be a time during which he could not trust her, even the more so since their break up had been mutual and thus no hard feelings had been left to linger between them. “Thank you,” he had said with a laugh, “but I, erm, I don’t think that it would be a good idea.” Not only would it spark yet another wildfire of rumours if he would show up to the Ballon d’Or with his ex-girlfriend, which he could have dealt with, but he had known that Cristiano would have been anything but happy with his decision. Understandably so, because _he_ definitely would not have been all too happy if Cristiano would have shown up with Irina as his date all of the sudden. Having discarded the idea of coming back on his ex-girlfriend’s offer, Leo had instead decided that he would simply go without a date, even if his anxiety had skyrocketed at the prospect of having to face the cameras all by himself.

What had been more than just a small consolation, however, had been the fact that Cristiano had booked a suite for the both of them. Not separated hotel rooms, but a suite. “Don’t even try to argue with me about that,” Cristiano had said to silence him after Leo had done so much as try to argue that he had not been reliant on Cristiano to do everything for the both of them. “Trust me with this, okay bebê? I’ve got it all planned and I _know_ that you’ll like it.” Leo might have rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics, but he had not attempted to talk Cristiano out of it and while he had not said it either, the way that the Portuguese had often taken matter into his own hands had been indescribably comforting and reassuring to him. All the more so since their first anniversary would fall onto the day after the Ballon d’Or ceremony and Cristiano had promised that he would make sure that Leo would have a great day. Leo had trusted Cristiano when it had come to that, more than he had ever trusted Antonella.

He had been more excited than he ever would have been willing to admit it, less because of the award ceremony and the chance of getting to win his fifth Ballon d’Or, but because he would finally be able to fall asleep and wake up in Cristiano’s arms. Something that Leo had not told anyone, not even his boyfriend, his best friends or Dolores, had been the fact that he had only felt like a complete person when he had not been at Cristiano’s side, that there had been a piece missing when they had been over 600km apart and Leo had not been able to spend as much time with Cristiano and Junior as he would have liked to. In the year that they had been together, he had learned to appreciate the peaceful moments in his life, no matter how short-lived they had been.

Before Cristiano and him had stopped circling around each other, Leo had definitely been spoilt. He had been so used to having Antonella around him all the time and before he had found out that the crush had been requited, he had never considered that he, at one point in his life, would find himself bound in a long distance relationship. But then again: he had spend years thinking that he would marry Antonella and spend the rest of his life with her.

The strain of being apart had no longer been as bad as it had been during the first few weeks and months of Cristiano’s and his relationship, where Leo had been downright eaten up by the worry that his boyfriend might decide to dump him and leave him with a broken heart. They had since become well-established with how their relationship had been condemned to go on until one of them would retire and be able to move cities without causing a scandal, but there had always been moments when Leo had found himself on the verge of tears because of it. It had would happen after he would have a bad day at training, though had not mentioned it during the FaceTime call with Cristiano because he had not wanted to burden his boyfriend, when he had failed to ignore just how empty and too big the king-sized bed had been without the Portuguese in it or when Leo had found himself faced with the ruthlessness of the press.

The journalists had jumped him as they had been lions and he had been a piece of fresh meat - Leo had to do so much as talk with an employee at the local grocery shop and multiple gossip magazines would print the photo together with a headline along the lines of “Is this Messi’s new girlfriend? More details inside!”. Cristiano had definitely been better when it had come to ignoring or making fun of whatever it had been that the media had reported about him while Leo had never quite managed to grow a skin as thick as he would have liked it to be. So it had happened that Cristiano had, when Leo had called him because he had needed his help to decide on a suit that he should wear for the occasion so that, as he had been scared of making a choice as bad as he had made the prior year, made fun of the most recent articles about Leo and Leo’s apparently so mysterious love life. 

“Look at this,” Cristiano had said, switching cameras so that he had been able to see the screen of Cristiano’s laptop and the website that his boyfriend had been scrolling through - Daily Mail. Leo had suspected that Cristiano had not stumbled over the notorious website by accident, as he had known better than to take it seriously and subscribe to it, of course. “Look at this,” the Portuguese had repeated and had pointed at one of the over-dramatised headlines, reading it out with a mocking tone. “ _Messy Mystery - when will he reveal the woman who managed to win his heart after he and his childhood sweetheart parted? Details inside!_ Yeah bebê, when will you tell me who she is? I’m very excited to get to know her.” Leo had rolled his eyes while Cristiano had laughed about his own joke, honestly amused. “God, they really are pathetic. Se não fosse tão complicado, eu já teria me mostrado com você agora. Por favor, não fique bravo só porque sou covarde.”

“Everyone knows that they’re pathetic but... there’s nothing that I can do about it.”

“It won’t be like that forever,” Cristiano had said, his voice having dropped to a lower level. “It has to be like... _this_ for now but I promise you that there’ll be a day when we don’t have to play this game anymore, Leo. I promise.”

A good few moments of silence had followed after Cristiano had finished speaking, as Leo simply had not known what he could have answered to what his boyfriend had said. Sure, he had known that there had been no way on God’s good earth that they could just publicise their relationship as if it had been nothing, but hearing it so directly for the first time had been a bit more painful than Leo had been willing to admit. To change the topic, Leo had cleared his throat and had stood up from where he had been sitting on his bed, switching cameras so that Cristiano had been able to see the two suits that he had laid out. “So,” he had said after having cleared his throat once more, “which one should I pack? The black one or the red one?”

When it had come to questions of fashion, Cristiano had been unbeatable, Leo had to admit that. He had worried his lip between his teeth while he had waited for his boyfriend to react and it had only been when Cristiano had cocked one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows that the tension had disappeared from his shoulders, “Are you serious? The red one? From _last year?_ ”

Leo had ducked his head and had instinctively switched back to the front camera of his phone, even though it had meant that Cristiano had then been able to see the blush that had risen into his face. “I... well I looked at it again and I... do like it?”

The older man had stared at him in disbelief. “Let’s just say it like this,” Cristiano had snorted, deliberately making a dramatic pause. “If you wear the red on I’ll refuse to be in a photo which you’re in. I love you with all my heart Leo but that thing is just plain hideous.” Leo had shaken his head, but had kept the comment that had been practically resting on the tip of his tongue to himself. “I mean it. If you wear the black one, however,” the older man had went on and Leo’s blush had increased at the way that his voice had been laced with a purr, “with the white shirt and the bow tie? I promise that I’ll take you to the nearest bathroom once the ceremony is over and show you just how much I love you, bebê.”

“Cristiano!”

“What? It’s not as if it would be the first time that we do something inappropriate in there.” He had not even looked at the screen, he had been able to hear Cristiano’s smirk nonetheless and he had let out a low whine when his boyfriend had chuckled. “I mean it, bebê. Pack the black one, I know that it’ll look good on you.”

In truth, Leo had been somewhat tempted to pick the red one just to see whether Cristiano would actually pull through with his threat, but he had discarded that idea almost as soon as it had come up and had opted for the plain black suit instead. “I’ll take the black one,” he had muttered with a bit of resignation and had set his phone aside to have both of his hands free and open the garment bag.

The older man had huffed a laugh, “Now there’s no reason for you to be mad at me, you asked me for my opinion and I merely said how it-”

“I’m not mad!” Leo had cut him off, his voice carrying a lot more bite than he thought it would and he had suddenly needed to blink hard as he had knelt down in front of his opened suitcase to rummage through it, so as if he had not already known that he had packed his toiletry bag before he had picked up his phone to call Cristiano. His boyfriend had not ended the call, but the silence that had stood between them in the line had been deafening and Leo had needed to swallow hard in order to even try and get rid of the lump in his throat which had formed from one second to another. He had failed to get it under control and so he had, before he could have thought about it, jumped up from his kneeling position and had hung up.

Leo had hated arguing and the awkward tension that would come with it, the more so when it had come to Cristiano, but he had regretted his decision almost as soon as he had realised what he had done and had plopped down to sit on the edge of his bed. Cristiano’s comment about their relationship being pretty much condemned to stay a hidden one when it had come to the majority of their friends, teammates and, of course, the general public, must have hit a lot closer to home than Leo had thought it had. He had squeezed his eyes shut as he had leaned over and had buried his face in his hands, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

It had just been so unfair. All he had wanted to do had been to show himself with Cristiano in public, to stop their game of hiding their affection, of only getting into cars with tinted windows and confining their relationship behind the closed door of their homes in either Barcelona or Madrid. He could not have sat there for longer than half a minute before his phone had rung, and he had not needed to check the caller ID to know that it had been his boyfriend.

He had desitated to pick it up at first, mostly because he had known that he definitely would have bursted intot tears if Cristiano would have taken turn with snapping at him, but he had given his head a shake and had reached for his phone nonetheless. Cristiano had begun to speak before Leo even had the chance to stutter an apology, “Bebê I’m sorry if I said anything wrong I-I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Glad that it had been a regular instead of a FaceTime call, as Cristiano then would have seen his face and the tears that he had been wiping away, Leo had taken a few seconds to compose himself again. “It’s okay,” he had said, though failing to keep his voice from cracking at the end and when he had blinked through his tears, he had felt more pathetic than he had felt in quite some time. “I shouldn’t have overreacted like that. I just...” He had taken the fact that Cristiano had stayed quiet on the other end of the line as his hint to go on, and yet he had hesitated. They had never really talked about it, had always beaten around the bush when it had come to what had surrounded their relationship because it had been more comfortable to not talk about that topic at all. Leo had sighed wearily, “I’m sorry that I hung up on you like that, Cris.”

“That’s okay bebê,” the Portuguese had answered, his voice a bit lower than it had usually been. “So you’re not mad with me?”

“No. No, I’m not.” Leo had sniffled as he had wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, making sure that he would not dirty the sleeve of the oversized hoodie he had been wearing. “It’s just... unfair.”

“Are you crying? And what’s unfair, bebê?”

“I’m not crying,” he had retorted, though the sound of his voice had given him away, “it’s just unfair that I have to attend the ceremony with Geri as my date and not my actual boyfriend.”

He had been a bit startled by the sound that Cristiano had made, “You’re going with _Piqué?_ ”

“I told you that,” Leo had said, managing to muster a smile, “when I told you that I turned Antonella’s offer down?”

Cristiano had groaned and it had sounded as if the Portuguese had run a hand over his face. “I forgot that you did, bebê,” he had sighed. “Well, I’d rather see you with Piqué than with Neymar.”

Leo’s brows had pulled together when he had thought to have caught a hint of jealousy in what his boyfriend had said. “Neymar is going with James,” he had retorted, “and I doubt that James didn’t already tell you.”

The other man had muttered a string of Portuguese curses before he had given a legitimate answer. “Yeah he told me. A dozen times, at least. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mad with you or anything because of it but the prospect of having to see you and Piqué is,” Cristiano had cut himself off by drawing in a deep breath, letting it out with a huffed laugh. “It doesn’t matter, bebê. I’ll have you for myself for the rest of the night and our anniversary so Piqué can go and pose for a few photos with you if he wants to. Eu gostaria de poder mostrar a eles tudo o que você é meu.”

Leo had shaken his head, but had still smiled. The subtile possessiveness that Cristiano had always brought to light around him had been something that he, albeit never having been confronted with it when he had been together with Antonella, had since become familiar and comfortable with. “Yeah,” he had said, smiling to himself. He had hardly been able to wait. “It’ll be just us, Cristiano.”

༻✦༺

Due to the almost three and a half hours delay which had occurred due to bad weather in Barcelona, Leo had arrived in Zurich with just enough time to check into his alibi hotel room which he had booked in the hotel that Gerard had been staying in, not the suite that Cristiano had booked for the both of them, and to get himself ready for the evening. He had cursed the fact that he had turned down the opportunity to fly the day earlier, like Gerard and Neymar had done it, but when he had been faced with the oportunity he had though that there had not been a reason for him to spend more time away from home than he had to, the more so since Cristiano had been due to arrive on the day of the ceremony as well. Leo definitely would have taken an earlier flight if it would have given him an opportunity to spend more time with his boyfriend.

“Leo,” Gerard had called out from the other side of the en suite bathroom door after having knocked at it twice, “we have to get going or we’ll be the last ones!” Fixing the bow tie around his neck for what could have been the dozenth time since he had disappeared into the bathroom to shave, take a quick shower and get dressed thirty minutes ago. “Leeeo!”

“I’m coming!” he had retorted, suppressing a laugh when he had thought about how similar Gerard had been to a certain two-year-old toddler in that moment, and the bathroom door had been opened almost the very second that he had unlocked it. His best friend had whistled through his teeth and Leo had blushed before he had cleared his throat and had averted his gaze to the floor, “Do I... look okay? I mean it’s not as if I can change because that’s the only suit I packed and-”

Gerard had laughed out loud and Leo had snapped his mouth shut when the taller mad had reached out and had smoothened an imaginary crease out of Leo’s suit jacket. “You look more than okay Leo, you look... adorable.”

Leo’s face had been flushed by an even darker shade of red and his voice had been more than a bit squeaky when he had spoken, “ _Adorable?_ I’m not-”

Laughing, Gerard had pulled out his phone and had laid an arm around the shorter man to pull him into a side hug, “You look good, I just think that you look like every mother-in-law’s dream in that suit. Tan valent, tan adorable, el petit Leo sembla tan crescut amb aquell vestit...”

“Didn’t you say that we have to go now?”

Leo had shaken his head but had mustered an honest smile when Gerard had raised his phone to take a selfie with him, “Would you be alright with me posting it on Twitter? The world needs to know how fucking adorable my best friend is.”

“Yeah that’s fine, just be quick about it.”

The rental car that Gerard had organised for them, a sleek black Lamborghini, had almost tempted them to drive a detour and Leo had a hard time trying to stop himself from growing increasingly nervous the closer they had come to the venue. Gerard had noticed it, of course, and when he had laid a hand onto his thigh, it had been nothing more than a gesture of comfort between best friends. Leo had squeezed Gerard’s hand in return. “Don’t worry,” the Spaniard had said, “no one will find out about you and Cristiano. You don’t have to worry about that, Leo. Ser and I went through this before It’ll be fine.”

It would have been a blatant lie if Leo would have said that he had not since become used to being the focus of attention, he had been forced to do so as a teenager, but he had never grown to like it, no matter how kind the journalists had been or how considerate the paparazzi had acted. Football had been his passion, the one thing that he had been born to do and if he would have the chance to, he immediately would have decided to live with all of the unwanted attention. 

Leo had been more than grateful that Gerard had offered to accompany him because he definitely would not have found the courage do ask his best friend, and considering how much his anxiety had skyrocketed at the sheer prospect of having to face the cameras all by himself. He had been too lost in his thoughts to notice who had arrived before them, but by the time that Gerard and him had stepped onto the red carpet, the noise which had come from the paparazzi, journalists and, most importantly, the fans had grown to an entirely new level. Gerard had kept a loose arm around his waist as they had walked from the Lamborghini to the red carpet which had awaited them and to Leo, it had been no surprise that he had not been bothered by the way that Gerard’s hand had rested so self-evidently on his hip while they had posed for a few photos before they had parted to give out autographs to the fans that had been waiting for them. 

The two of them had spend a good few minutes doing so, and it had only been when the security guard had suggested for them to move on that Gerard had returned his arms around Leo’s waist and in hindsight, neither of them had thought about how it may have looked to those than had not considered the years of friendship that they had gone through and which had been explanation enough for the way Gerard had touched him. They had moved past Sergio, who had been busy signing jerseys, on their way to the building and Leo, unsure whether Gerard had noticed, had nudged his best friend’s side as inconspicuously as he could have done it. “I know,” the Catalan had whispered. “I wonder where Cristiano is, shouldn’t he be here by now?” All Leo had been able to answer with had been a shrug, with all the troubles that he had gone through that day he had not really gotten around to text Cristiano more than the good morning text he had always send him. “Well, knowing him he probably got here an hour earlier than everyone else.”

He had only managed to do so much as roll his eyes at what Gerard had said before another wave of roaring applause had broken out from behind them, and he had not needed to turn around to know that Cristiano had just stepped onto the red carpet. The chant of _Ro-nal-do! Ro-nal-do!_ had really left nothing to the imagination. It had, however, taken Leo a few second until he had gathered enought courage to actually turn around. While they had been mostly hidden from the many cameras ever since they had entered the vestibule, they had an unhindered view of what had been going on outside and Leo had needed to look away almost as soon as he had caught a sight of his boyfriend, something that had not only been due to the fact that Cristiano had cut a sinfully good figure in his suit, but because he had been accompanied by his mother - and Junior.

“Hey, what is it?” Gerard had asked him, obviously having noticed his change in behaviour.

His best friend’s question had startled Leo a bit, since he had been so focused on the sight in front of him after he had dared to take a second look. Cristiano had carried Junior on his hip as he had given out autographs with his free hand and it had seemed as if the crowd had, for once, been clever enough to not make too much noise in the presence of Cristiano’s son. In fact, his boyfriend had not told him that he would be coming with his family, that this year’s Ballon d’Or would be the first major event that Junior would attend. If Cristiano _would_ have asked him beforehand, Leo would have said that even at two and a half years old Junior had still been decidedly too young to attend an award ceremony where you have to sit still for a couple of hours.

His heart had somersaulted when Cristiano had suddenly looked into his direction, so as if he had known just where he could be found, and since Leo had been hidden from sight, the Portuguese had even dared to smile and wink at him from the distance. Leo had needed to look away once again, both to suppress the urge to run to him and hug him right there and then and to make sure that Junior would not spot him and possibly cause a scene. “He didn’t tell me,” he had answered with delay as he had allowed Gerard to lead him further into the building and the hall that the actual ceremony would take place in.

“What didn’t he tell you?”

Leo had cleared his throat and had scratched at his upper lip, an old habit of nervousness that he had never gotten rid of, “That he’d be coming with his mother _and_ Junior.”

Gerard had eyed him from the side, clearly not understanding what Leo had tried to get at, “And that would be a problem because...?”

Leo had only answered after they had moved past a group of people that had stood near the entrance of the hall, and he had dropped his voice to a lower level, “Junior will recognise me? Geri, how will that turn out? He’s just a little kid, he can’t understand...”

Sensing that Leo’s anxiety had been building up with a rapid speed, Gerard had pulled him a bit tighter agains him. “It’ll be okay,” the Catalan had said, “we can always switch seats if you want to, that won’t be a problem.” They had walked to the front of the hall, and Leo had let out a breath he had not been aware of having held in when he had seen that Cristiano and him had indeed been given seats right next to each other. Had it been a surprise? Of course not, it had neither been the first nor would it be the last time that they would have to sit together. Leo had mustered a small smile at the place card that had read _Cristiano Ronaldo Jr._ \- who had felt the need to give a two-year-old his own seat?

“Leo, bro!”

Thankful for the distraction, Leo had immediately accepted the hug that Neymar had offered to him after his friend had stood up from where he had been sitting with James. They had both laughed when the Brazilian had patted him on the back. The large hall had been in the process of getting filled, with people moving inside to find their designated seats, and so Neymar and Leo had moved a bit to the side to allow those that had needed to walk past them. Leo had allowed his eyes to fall close for a moment as he had hugged his best friend back and had tried to get his anxiety back under control. It had turned out to have been in vain, though, as he, just after Neymar had loosened his embrace, had spotted three familar faces by the entrance door.

His friend might have given him a sympathetic smile, though there could have been a hint of worry behind it as he had shot a look to Gerard. “Do you have to...?” Neymar had asked, referring to Leo’s well-known problem and Leo had shaken his head, drawing in a deep breath through his nose.

“No, I’m okay,” he had said, “thank you,” before he had hurried to his seat. It would have been a lot more awkward if he would have been forced to move past an already steated Cristiano and he had let out shaky sigh when he had plopped down onto the seat beside Gerard, opening the buttons of his suit jacket. Gerard had asked him whether he had been okay or not, but Leo had not even had time to answer before Cristiano had come to stand in front of him.

“Messi.” He had felt practically every present pair of eyes on him, on _them_ in that very moment and he had barely managed to find the courage to look up while Cristiano had succeeded at smirking down at him at him just like he had done it when they had still been self-proclaimed archenemies, something that he had admired because he certainly could not have done it. If Leo would have taken a closer look, however, he would have noticed how Cristiano’s eyes had given him away. Anyone who had known him in private, not as CR7, would have been able to see how his eyes had stayed soft.

He had muttered a rather halfhearted “Ronaldo” back as he had shaken the offered hand and he had not been sure whether he had merely imagined it or not, but he had thought that Cristiano had squeezed his hand for longer than it would have been necessary and he had pretended to be engaged in a conversation with Gerard while Cristiano, Dolores and Junior had taken their seats right beside him. Sure, Leo had been on edge about whether he would win his fifth Ballon d’Or that evening or not, but the reason as for why he had bounced his knee had solely been due to his fear of Junior calling out for him. Less because of his, but because of the toddler’s sake. How on earth could Leo have shown a two-year-old that he had no choice but to ignore him for the duration of the ceremony without breaking Junior’s little heart?

The Argentine had let out a low sigh of relief when the lights had been dimmed and the presenters had entered the stage, praying that the two hours would be over with rather fast. Leo had been hyperaware of Cristiano’s presence beside him. Given the way that they had been seated, it had been as good as inevitable for their thighs to not touch every then and there and even though they had to keep it at a minimum, of course, as they had been sitting in the very first row, there had been no mistaking in the way that Cristiano had pressed his thigh against his from time to time, so as if his boyfriend had wanted to let him know that he had been there.

While Leo had almost never dared to look into Cristiano’s direction and had only really done it when Junior had accidentally thrown one of his toys onto the ground and Cristiano had bend down to pick it up, he had tried to perceive how Junior had been handling the situation. Dolores had kept the toddler on her lap and had bounced him softly, obviously trying to prevent an outburst before Junior could have initiated one and Leo had been proud, very proud that the toddler had stayed quiet for the majority of the time. The ceremony had proceeded, the first few awards had been handed out and he had engaged in whispered conversations with Gerard whenever he had the opportunity - Leo had not forgotten that his best friend had been in a very similar situation than his, even if Sergio had been seated a row behind them.

So the minutes had gone by him, he had applauded whenever it had been fitting and had somehow managed to not lose his smile. It had only been when Kate Abdo had opened the last one of the golden envelopes that Leo’s pulse had skyrocketed again. “And the 2015 FIFA Ballon d’Or goes to... Lionel Messi.” Applause had broken out throughout the spacious hall and Leo had leaned over, a bit in disbelief, to hug Gerard before he had stood from his seat. Turning around to wave at those of his friends that he had spotted in the crowd, Leo had tried to ignore the urge to just snap and kiss Cristiano right there and in front of everyone. That he never could have done so, he had known, of course, and so he had merely walked past his boyfriend and towards the stage.

He had tried to look anywhere but at Cristiano, Dolores and Junior after he had accepted his award and had merely stood there to receive another round of applause before it had been his turn to give a short speech. Thankfully, the fact that his voice had been trembling could have easily been explained that time. “I,” he had started, only to clear his throat and let out a shaky laugh which had earned him laughter from the audience in return. “I’d like to thank the journalists who voted for me and enabled me to win my fifth Ballon d’Or but... but most of all I want to thank all of my teammates at Barça, as they made me enjoy this year so much.” Leo had been forced to pause when his words had triggered another round of applause, and he had only continued once it had died down. “You’re all part of this incredible award,” he had raised said golden award to underline what he had said, “I promise that I’ll continue to grow and do what I was born to do. Thank you, thank you all so very much.”

Ending his short speech with a teary smile and a bow, he had hoisted the award into his arms and had kissed it before he had made his way off the stage and back to his seat. His face had throbbed due to the blush that had risen into it once he had noticed how Cristiano had been watching him not all that inconspicously, though the press would definitely twist the truth to make it seem as if the Portugese had been ready to tear the Ballon d’Or out of Leo’s hands. People had congratulated him left and right and Leo had quite the hard time twisting around to shake as many hands as possible, especially since it had seemed as if Cristiano had truly _pressed_ his thigh against Leo’s that time.

It had only been after the turmult had died down, the lights had been dimmed again and the attention of the crowd had been pulled back towards the stage that there had been a reaction from Cristiano, who had stayed unusually quiet while Leo had shaken a dozen of hands. Just like it had happened the year before, Cristiano had laid a hand onto Leo’s thigh as if it had been the most usual gesture for the apparently self-proclaimed archenemies and had leaned over so that only Leo had been able to hear what he had been about to say, “Congratulations, bebê. I’m so proud of you.” The Portuguese had shifted back into his former position and had pulled his hand back, looking as undisturbed in his peace as ever, portraying the perfect image of superiority that he had managed to master.

Leo had been left grinning after that, mostly because the anxiety about having to get onto the stage while being watched by countless of people both live and on TV had passed, and because he had become increasingly excited to leave the congress house and be with Cristiano in the privacy of their suite - considering that his boyfriend had decided to bring Dolores and Junior with him, it would definitely take them a while until they would be truly alone. Leo had been fine with that too, of course. He had let out yet another sigh of relief when the ceremony had come to an end and the guests had begun to leave the hall; he had continued to sit in his seat until a member of the staff had come and had collected the award for his name on it, and so had Cristiano.

His boyfriend had, purely by chance, of course, found himself engaged in a conversation with Sergio and when Leo had exchanged a look with Gerard, he had known that his best friend had thought the same: Cristiano and Sergio had acted just like they had done it after the Clásico. There had still been cameras on them, they still had to watch their every step and so when Cristiano had leaned down to speak to him after he had stood up, Leo had only barely kept himself from spluttering, “Meet me in the bathroom.” He had nodded and had smiled out of reflex, only standing up after he had given Cristiano, and Sergio, enough time to leave the hall.

“Congratulations,” Gerard had laughed, patting the top of Leo’s head instead of ruffling through his carefully coiffed hair, “you really deserve it.”

“Thank you, Geri.” Leo might not have worded it out, but he had known that Gerard had known just how much it had meant to him to hear his friends speaking about him like that, not just journalists. The Spaniard had smiled and winked at him, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his dress pants. “Will you stay or are you leaving right away?”

Leo had laughed when his best friend’s smile had turned lewd for just the split of a moment, “I’ll probably have a drink with Ney and then go back to the hotel.”

It had been the answer that Leo had already expected to get, if he would have judged by the way that Sergio had downright undressed Gerard with his eyes, and the way that Gerard had apparently not been offended by it, he would have been surprised if Gerard’s answer would have been a different one. “You can call me if he decides to go five times in a row again.”

They had both laughed but since they had left the hall and had entered the VIP area, it had earned them more attention that Leo had been comfortable with. “Well,” Gerard had chuckled, “I know better than to use the bathroom for the next twenty minutes or so, right?”

Leo had squeaked, “Geri! I wouldn’t do- well, I won’t do it _again_.”

They had hugged, simply because neither of them had known whether they would see each other again that evening, and Leo had made his way through the crowd towards the bathroom to which Cristiano had taken him exactly 364 days ago to talk somewhere more private. It had been inevitable for Leo to not be stopped by a friend, teammate or acquaintances every then and there and while his mind had already been with Cristiano, he had lacked the heart to just ignore them.

“What did I tell you?” Marc-André had laughed while he had pulled Leo into a quick embrace, “I told you that you’d win this year, didn’t I?”

Leo had nodded and had smiled at his teammate, “Yeah you did.”

“Would you like to have a drink with me?”

“I’d like to,” he had said, clearing his throat, “but I... have to go and meet someone I promised I’d find. Maybe later?” Marc-André had smiled, thankfully not as disappointed as Leo had feared he would be and if it would not have resulted in him being the center of attention, he would have run to the bathroom. He had tried to calm himself and not appear to nervous when he had thrown an appraising look over his shoulder before he had brought a hand to the door handle, only to find out that it had been locked.

A bit unsure what to do, as he could not possibly have called out Cristiano’s name, he had stood there for a few seconds before he had decided to knock at the locked door. Luckily for him, the door had been unlocked and opened within a second, and Leo had hurried just as much to enter and lock the door behind him once he had slipped into the bathroom. The older man had stood leaned against the vanity unit, showing one of his million dollar smiles and Leo’s knees had went undeniably weak when his boyfriend had opened the buttons of his suit jacket, one by one, staring with the bottom one. He only really had time to take a step into Cristiano’s direction before the Portuguese had strode over to him, had cupped his face and had tilted his head back to kiss him.

Cristiano had done it with so much force that Leo would have slammed against the door if it would not have been for his boyfriend’s quick thinking, and Leo had found himself spun around and crowded against the vanity unit instead. Not even two weeks had passed since they had last seen each other but Cristiano had kissed him as if it had been month. Leo had no problem with it, of course. Both him and Cristiano had let out strangled gaps when he had parted his legs for the taller man to move in between them. “Same bathroom as a year ago, bebê,” Cristiano had muttered against his lips, “I missed you,” kissing him again. “Do you know how horrible it was to not be allowed to touch you like I wanted to? To see _Piqué_ touching you like that?”

The blush on Leo’s face had darkened in colour and he had hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of his boyfriend’s trousers as if to hinder him from pulling away while he had kissed him back. “I rather would’ve come with you,” he had answered with an equally low voice.

Cristiano had chuckled under his breath and had squeezed Leo’s waist again before he had brought a hand up, cupping it against Leo’s face. “I know,” he had whispered, causing Leo’s breath to hitch when he had kissed a corner of his mouth. “Eu te amo, bebê.” Oh, Leo had been so in love with him but before he could have said it back, Cristiano had kissed him once more and had hummed into the kiss, “You looked a bit lost out there. Maybe I should’ve just kissed you right on stage?”

“Cristiano,” Leo had whined, eliciting a laugh from his boyfriend.

“Yes?” Rolling his eyes, he had wrapped his arms around Cristiano’s waist and had nestled against his chest. The older man had kissed the top of his head, “Congratulations on your fifth Ballon d’Or,” Cristiano had whispered, kissing the top of his head once more, “you really deserve it, bebê. You had a great year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be a continuation of the Ballon d'Or night in the next chapter, I had to make a cut somewhere :-)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once, there's a good reason as for why this chapter took me so long to finish: I'm moving to my absolute dream city! <3
> 
> I still can't believe it, because I didn't think that I'd have the opportunity to do that but I'm leaving my home and (old) university behind for the fresh start that I desperately need! :-) **I won't abandon this story, of course (I'd never do that), but it will take me a while to get back to regular updates and longer chapters.**
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Ballon d'Or Gala, 11. January 2016.** _

“I had a great year,” Leo had whispered and he had wriggled a bit where he had been perched on the edge of the vanity unit, eliciting a baritone laugh from Cristiano, who had leaned down to kiss him again but Leo had ducked away before he could have done so, and he had grinned at the look he had received from his boyfriend in return. He had hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of Cristiano’s trousers again, his grin widening the more that the older man’s eyebrow had raised to his hairline, “We beat you _twice_ in a row.”

As the Portuguese had taken his face into his hands as a precaution to keep him in place, Leo would have failed to duck away from Cristiano’s second attempt to kiss him even if he would have tried to. “You’re so lucky that I love you,” Cristiano had muttered into the kiss, making Leo gasp when he had captured his bottom lip between his teeth for no longer than a second, “because you really test me sometimes, bebê. Sem mencionar que eu tenho sorte que você me ama.” He had been left breathless when Cristiano had wrapped both of his arms around him and had pulled him flush against him in a way that had allowed Leo to feel the thumping of Cristiano’s heart, just holding him close while they had exchanged a few more sweet kisses, so as if they had not locked themselves in a public restroom that anyone else could have wanted to enter at any given moment. “I told you that I’d take you to the nearest bathroom and show you just how much I love you, didn’t I?”

Leo’s face had heated up, the more so when Cristiano had moved his hands to splay them over his backside and squeeze at the flesh, “You don’t want to-”

“What, bebê?” He had set on to answer, but the words had died in his throat when Cristiano had loosened the bow tie from around his neck and had opened the first button of his dress shirt to reveal the lower part of Leo’s neck, “What do I not want to do, hm?” All that had left Leo’s mouth had been a whimper at the first hint of Cristiano’s lips on the sensitive skin of his neck and he had moved his hands underneath his boyfriend’s suit jacket to feel the tense muscles of his shoulders. “Are you saying that I don’t want to bend my pretty little boyfriend over and show him just how much I love him, that I don’t want to let him know how incredibly _cute_ he looks in the suit that he’s wearing?”

Leo’s heart had somersaulted and the tension in his lower stomach had intensified at the prospect of Cristiano doing just what he had told him and he had all but whimpered at the feeling of a love mark being sucked onto his skin, “Cris-” 

“Considering what you did a year ago,” the Portuguese had went on, and Leo had suddenly been very aware of the strain in his boyfriend’s pants that had been pressed against his own crotch. Having caught himself rather quickly, he had grinned from ear to ear at the moan that Cristiano had breathed into the crook of his neck when he had ground his hips and had arched against him before he had pulled his hands out from inside Cristiano’s jacket and had brought one of them to the unmistakable tent in his boyfriend’s pants, squeezing his cock for just a second. Sure, he _could_ have dropped to his knees and repeat what he had done a year ago, but he had felt little aspiration to do it in the public bathroom they had been in. “Oh meus Deus,” the older man had groaned.

Leo had uncrossed his ankles from around his back to allow him to step away and while he had giggled at the sight of Cristiano leaning his forehead against the wall as the older man had tried to will his erection down, it had not been as if Leo’s situation had been any different. His cock had been straining and throbbing in his trousers, eager to be freed and touched, but he had wanted to wait until they would be in their suit.

“We should leave,” Cristiano had said, his voice suddenly thicky laced with his accent and arousal, and Leo had shivered when his boyfriend had looked at him. He had needed to avert his gaze as he had slid off the vanity unit and had turned around to face the mirror, two bright pink blotches burning on his face when he had buttoned up his shirt and had folded the collar back into place with slightly trembling hands. Latter had hardly been high enough to hide the love mark Cristiano had left behind on his neck and he had known that he would not be able to move his head without it being revealed. The Portuguese had come to stand behind him while he had been busy with tying his bow tie, and he had rolled his eyes when Cristiano had taken it onto himself to straighten it out a bit, “Do you want to stay for a bit longer or do you want us to leave now?”

Leo had known that the other had not been talking about staying in the bathroom they had locked themselves in, “I told Marc-André that I’d have a drink with him-”

Snorting in disapproval, Cristiano had rested his hands on Leo’s waist as if to show how unsatisfied he had been with the answer he had gotten, “Do you _really_ want to chose your teammate over me, bebê? That’s not very fair, you see him at least six times a week.”

Leo had rolled his eyes once more but had not argued, already having decided that he would not linger at this party for longer than he had to and since he had not been a party person to begin with, his early disappearance would hardly be noteworthy. “You know how much I want to see Junior and your mother, Cristiano.”

The older man had smield and had kissed the top of his head. “I hate to disappoint you bebê, but my mãe will have put him to bed by the time that we arrive at the hotel.” Leo had pouted just for the sake of it and had tried to look as sad as he only could have looked with his fifth Ballon d’Or and his boyfriend at his side, and he had snorted a laugh when Cristiano had tapped a finger against his protruding bottom lip as if to chide him. “Aw, don’t be sad, bebê. I promise that you’ll get to see him tomorrow.”

He had given his head a shake as he had closed the buttons of his suit jacket, “We’ll have to talk about that too.”

“About what?”, Cristiano had asked, and the look of confusion on his face had been a real one.

“The fact that you apparently didn’t bother to tell me that you’ll be coming with your mother _and_ Junior?”

His boyfriend had looked at him, “I didn’t tell you?”

“Oh my God, you’re such a dork sometimes.”

The Portuguese had let out a faked sound of offend, and had smirked at Leo through the mirror when he had elicited a whimpered moan by applying the slightest bit of pressure onto the fresh love mark. He had kissed Leo’s cheek, “Maybe so, but I know that you love me for it and that’s all that matters,” before he had stepped back to fix his own suit. “Listen here, bebê,” Cristiano had said once he had made himself respectable again. Leo had felt an undeniable twinge in his chest at the realisation that he could not have possibly shown himself at his side once they would leave the bathroom. “I parked the car in the underground garage, right by the exit. It’s a red Maserati so you really can’t miss it.” He had hummed and while he had tried to his it, he had appeared more low-spirited than he had wanted Cristiano to know about it. His boyfriend had cupped his face, not to kiss him but to caress the clean-shaven skin. “It won’t be like this forever, Leo.”

It had been far from the first time that Leo had been told the exact same thing and while he had hoped that the other had said the truth, the fact that they had to continue the game that neither of them had wanted to play had pretty much ruined his mood, even though he had been more than happy to be at his boyfriend’s side again. Leo had decided, for himself, that he would leave the party right away, because he had no doubt that he would not be able to withstand seeing Neymar and James acting all happy and touchy in public without treating his friends in a way that they had not deserved to be treated. “I hope so,” he had muttered, forcing himself to muster a short-lived smile and if he would have looked at Cristiano’s face instead of his chest, he would have seen that the Portuguese’s smile had been rather pensive as well.

“Sinto muito, bebê.”

In the year that he had been with Cristiano he had caught onto a few phrases and so he had smiled again as he had turned his head to kiss the palm of Cristiano’s right hand. “I don’t blame you.” Leo had meant it, he had not blamed him. It had been nothing that Cristiano could have changed on his own even if he would have wanted to. “It’s not your fault, Cristiano, it’s just...”

There had been a knock at the door and while it had not been a hard one, it had still scared him so much that he had jumped back and against the vanity unit, letting out a wince when the edge of the countertop had dug into the small of his back. Cristiano’s gaze had turned from soft to worried and finally to apologetic, and he had taken Leo by the arm to pull him into the bathroom stall. “Stay and lock the door,” he had whispered, pressing a quick kiss onto Leo’s lips. Cristiano had closed the door and Leo’s heart had been racing, so badly that he had felt it in his throat. He had sat down onto the closed toiled lid after he had locked the door of the stall, careful as to not make any noise, and had listened to Cristiano unlocking the bathroom door and turning on the tap, obviously wanting to pretend as if he had really just used the toilet.

“Mano, não achei que te veria aqui!” 

Leo had clenched his jaw shut, having insantly recognised the voice as that of Pepe. Of course it had to be him out of all the people that could have walked in. “Sim bem,” Cristiano had said with a laugh, turning the tap off and pulling a few paper towels out of the dispenser to dry his hands off. “Você pode ter que esperar, Messi acabou de entrar.”

“Messi?” Pepe had laughed as humourlessly as he probably could have done it and while Leo had not understood what the older Portuguese had said, there had been no mistaking that it had not been kind words, “Aquele anãozinho, ele é a pessoa que eu não quero ver. Você o viu?”

The snorted laugh that Cristiano had answered with had sounded unmistakably forced to Leo’s ears, “Espero que você entenda que não quero falar sobre ele.”

“Sim, eu entendo isso. Quer tomar uma bebida?”

The bathroom door had been opened and while Leo would have wished for Pepe to do so, he had known that it had been Cristiano who had signalled that he had been ready to leave, “Não posso. Eu estou conhecendo alguém.”

“Okay mano, sem problemas.”

Leo had stood from where he had been sitting and had flushed the toilet most unnecessarily when the door had fallen shut. He had needed to mentally steady himself before he had unlocked the door and step out of the bathroom stall a moment later, keeping his face a perfectly blank mask in the headspace that the press had torn him apart over countless of times. Pepe had actually growled at him when he had moved past him to wash his hands and Leo had closed his eyes, leaning against the vanity unit to exhale slowly. That exact scene had been the reason as for why they had to hide their relationship. Whatever it had been that Pepe had said about him, it had not been a nice thing if Cristiano had to hear that from a teammate of his... 

His phone had vibrated in his pocket shortly after he had downright fled the bathroom and had emerged into the crowd of guests in the VIP area, but Leo had been so fixated of walking through the crowd that he had forgotten to check who the text had come from. He had collected his then engraved Ballon d’Or award and had tried to keep the conversations which others had tried to engage him into as short as possible, since Cristiano had been waiting for him and he had been more than eager to leave the congress hall.

It had taken him quite a few minutes to find the entrance to the underground garage. It had not actually been signposted, and Leo probably would have failed to find it if it would not have been for the kind hostess that had told him how to get there. Thankfully for him, spotting the red Maserati which Cristiano had mentioned had been a much easier task. He had grown a bit more anxious as he had approached it, fearing that he might have been followed by an especially motivated paparazzo, though it had seemed as if the air had, for once, been clean and Cristiano and him had gotten lucky that evening. Cristiano had grinned at him when he had plopped down onto the passenger’s seat of the rental car with an exaggerated sigh. “What?” Leo had asked, confused by the way that Cristiano’s grin had widened a bit as he had eyed him from the side.

“Oh nothing. I was just beginning to think that Pepe killed you back there.”

Snorting, he had twisted around in his seat to put the bag with his fifth Ballon d’Or award, which had been securely packed in a transport box, into the leg room behind the passenger’s seat while Cristiano had reversed the car out of the parking slot and had rested his right hand on Leo’s thigh like he had done it whenever he had the chance to do so, “The way he _growled_ at me like a mad man I wouldn’t have been surprised if he would’ve-”

“Foda-se não!”

Leo had squeaked when he had been grabbed by the back of his neck and had been pulled down so that his cheek had connected with Cristiano’s thigh a bit too harshly. “What the hell,” he had snapped and had tried to push himself up into a sitting position again, but Cristiano’s hand had remained in the back of his neck had easily held him down.

“Paparazzi.”

He had been about to argue that he had not seen any paparazzi when he had made out the tale-telling flash of cameras and Cristiano had cursed under his breath as he had tried to drive out of the underground garage without hitting one of the bothersome paparazzi and risking a lawsuit and as opposed to a moment ago, Cristiano’s hand had then been a comfortable weight and if it would not have been for that, Leo surely would have run straight into the anxiety attack that had been creeping up onto him. He had still flinched when the car had come to a rather abrupt halt and had planted his right hand against the dashboard out of reflex, “Cris-”

“I’m sorry bebê,” the older man had whispered. Leo had closed his eyes when Cristiano had opened the window on the driver’s seat, so as if to prepare himself. “Get the fuck out of the way!”, Cristiano had yelled, making wild gestures with his left hand.

“Mr. Ronaldo, I-”

“No, get away from the fucking car ou então me ajude a Deus! Eu não quero lidar com você, vá embora! Fuck off!” The engine of the sports car had roared when Cristiano had suddenly pressed down onto the gas pedal, apparently very eager to get away from that place as soon as possible. “Aqueles malditos bastardos,” the Portuguese had muttered, only slowing down and eventually coming to a halt at a red light. Leo had made no move to sit up, had merely continued to lie there with his cheek pillowed on Cristiano’s thigh, feeling comfortable enough to to so as it had been dark outside and the Maserati had tinted side windows. “Are you okay?”, his boyfriend had asked him, moving his hand from the back of Leo’s neck to comb it through his hair with a calming gesture instead.

“Yeah,” he had said, his voice barely above a whisper, and he had shifted a bit, though had not made a move to sit up even though his face had heated up when Cristiano had chuckled as he had continued to drive when the light had turned green, suddenly having made him very aware of the position that he had been in.

“As long as you’re comfortable, bebê.”

Leo had not actually known which hotel Cristiano had booked them into, as he had not really considered to ask him about it, and so he had not been able to estimate for how much longer the drive would go on. The radio had been turned on and had played a random song which had helped the both of them to calm down, Leo from his anxiety and Cristiano from his short-lived outburst of anger. While the Portuguese had hummed along to the song that Leo had not known and had continued to stroke his hair as he steered through the Zurich traffic, Leo had almost gasped when he had suddenly had tempted by something that usually would have been his first intuition after being forced into the position that he had been in.

He had discarded that thought in the first instance, only for it to creep up to him again and so he had decided to give in to it. Casting a quick look up at Cristiano, whose eyes had been fixed onto the road, Leo had grinned to himself and had used his boyfriend’s knee for leverage to lift himself up enough to turn his head and shuffle until his face had been hovering right over Cristiano’s crotch. Before Cristiano could have asked him just what he had been doing, he had leaned down and had kissed the fabric under which the strain had been during their encounter in the bathroom. Leo had giggled at the choked sound that the older man had let out and had repeated the action, kissing the same spot. “L-Leo.”

Cristiano’s fingers had tightened in his hair when Leo had rubbed his cheek against the other man’s crotch and had looked up with faked innocence, battering his eyelashes, “I’m not doing anything.”

His boyfriend’s eyes had darted back and forth between Leo and the street in front of him. “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Cristiano had said. His voice had cracked a bit when Leo had kissed the same spot once more, his lips lingering that time. The younger man had hummed, the prospect of getting to take his to their suite had spurred him on, and Cristiano’s fingers had tightened their hold in his hair once more when he had flicked his tongue out and had licked over the outline of the hardening cock, leaving wet fabric and a palpable throbbing behind. 

It had been a while since he had last done it, because it had usually been Cristiano who had taken the upped hand when it had come to their love making, but Leo had been determined to set out and take the charge for at least a part of their night together. Cristiano had definitely deserved it, and if it had been a way through which Leo had been able to show him just how much he had appreciated him he had been all in for it. “Bebê,” Cristiano had grunted, his voice cut off by a broken moan and his hips had twitched rather uncontrollably when Leo had squeezed his hardening cock through the fabric of his dress pants before he had sat up and had abandoned his crotch. Leo had grinned from ear to ear when Cristiano had muttered something incoherent, clearly disappointed by the fact that Leo had sat up, and had tried to arrange the strain in his trousers. “Espere até estarmos no hotel, Leo.”

Making sure that he would not accidentally distract his boyfriend from driving too much, as he had no aspirations for them to crash, Leo had leaned over to kiss Cristiano’s cheek and had dropped a hand to his crotch as if had been purely by accident, “I love you.”

The Portuguese’s eyes had darted over to him, and Leo’s smile had widened at the way that the corners of Cristiano’s mouth had twitched as he had tried to force down a smile, “I love you too, bebê. Never doubt that.” He had plopped back down into his seat. It had taken them no longer than five more minutes to reach the hotel that Cristiano had chosen for their short getaway, but they had been met with the next problem after Cristiano had parked the car in the only free spot in front of the six-star hotel. Cristiano had fumbled around a bit and had eventually handed Leo a keycard. “Room 503,” he had said, roaming his eyes over Leo’s face so as if to tell him that he had been sorry about having to part from him in order to get to their suite.

Leo had nodded, had retrieved his award from the leg room behind the passenger’s seat and had climbed out of the Maserati after he had made sure that there had been no one watching or waiting for them. He had suddenly wished that he would have brought one of his hoodies just so that he would have something to hide his face with, even if he would have looked ridiculous wearing a hoodie paired with his dress pants and he had tried not to think about how much he had hated the game that they had been playing. It had been ridiculous and more than a bit heartbreaking, but necessary. 

Given the hour of day, or rather the hour of night, there had not actually been a receptionist occupying the front desk. His luck, one which he had hoped would stay for longer than just the split of a moment. He had quickly entered the building and had hurried to the elevator, hugging his newest award to his chest as if it had been his lifeline. Leo had still been aroused by having felt his boyfriend’s arousal mere moments ago and his trousers had become uncomfortably tight as he had waited for the elevator to reach the highest floor. His hands had been positively shaking as he had only managed to put the key card into the fitting slot at the third try. 

“Jesus,” he had muttered to himself, letting out a breath he had not been aware of having held in as he had closed the door behind him. The suite had been grand, with vast open space and ridiculously expensive furniture. Leo had spotted his suitcase next to the small side table in the area which had apparently been meant as the living room of the suite and while Cristiano had told him that he would arrange for it to be brought over, he had been a bit stunned to actually see it. He had just taken put his award down onto said side table, taken off his shoes and had been about to shrug his suit jacket off when he had heard Cristiano unlocking the door.

Leo barely had time to register that, as his boyfriend had smiled at him almost predatorily, had thrown the door close behind him, had strode over to him and had cupped his face to pull him into a kiss. It had happened so suddenly and with so much force behind it that Leo had found himself stumbling backwards, only held upright by Cristiano’s hold on him. The kiss had grown heated as soon as their lips had connecting, turning out to be all tongues and teeth and he had whimpered when Cristiano had made no move to ease up on him. “Fuck,” the older man had growled, “bebê, could you...” He had kept one had cupped against the side of Leo’s face and had brought the other to his ass, pulling him flush agains him, “Você poderia usar sua boca de novo?”

He had not understood what it had been that Cristiano had breathed into his ear, but there had been blood rushing into both his nethers and his face when the his boyfriend had moved his thumb across his bottom lip with a rather rough stroke, making his wish unmistakably clear to him, and Leo had nodded. He had not needed to think about it, his own arousal already having skyrocketed at the prospect of getting to please him and Cristiano had grinned at him before he had kissed him again, just as sloppily as he had done it earlier. Cristiano had not stopped kissing him as he had hoisted him up by a rather harsh grip on his backside, urging Leo to wrap his legs around his waist so that he could be properly carried and Leo had been left gasping into the kiss when his boyfriend had brought him to the bedroom.

They had hurried to get out of their clothes while stealing kisses every then and there and Leo had laughed at the offended sound that Cristiano had let out when he had left his dress pants discarded on the floor, even though the Portuguese yet had to take off his shirt when he had climbed onto the large king-sized bed and had sat up against the headboard. His eyes had burned on Leo where they had followed his every move and Leo had undressed down to his underwear before he had clambered onto the bed. 

“Bebê.” The tension that had come up between them when he had moved in between Cristiano’s spread legs on all fours had nearly been palpable and his boyfriend’s cock had already been twitching. Leo had taken it by the base as he had leaned over to catch Cristiano’s lips in a kiss. He had wanted to deepen it, to tease him a bit more but his boyfriend had sneaked a hand between them and had forced Leo, with gentle force but determinant nonetheless, to pull back. Leo had only just suppressed a whimper when Cristiano had brushed his thumb over his lips for the second time that evening and he had been able to watch how the other’s pupils had widened after he had caught the tip of the digit between his teeth and had flicked his tongue against it, eliciting a low moan from him. “ _Fuck_ , Leo.”

He had wasted no more time. Cristiano had driven both of his hands into his hair when he had given his cock a rather lazy stroke and had gotten himself into position, shuffling backwards until he had been balancing on his knees and elbows. While almost a year had passed since he had last done it, Leo had no troubles adapting to it right away. He had usually never been a big fan of blowjobs, of receiving them as little as giving them with the different one night stands he had tried them out, they had always felt more like a chore than something that anyone would do out of sheer desire to please their partner but with Cristiano, things had been different. Of course they had been different.

Leo had kept his eyes fixed on his boyfriend’s face as he had leaned over and had licked a bold stripe along the underside of Cristiano’s cock, blindly following a vein and teasing the slit at the top before he had closed his lips around the head. One hand had disappeared out of his hair while the other had tightened its hold, adding just the right amount of force that Leo had needed for his underwear to feel too tight. If he would not have been fully set on pleasuring Cristiano first and foremost, he would have dropped a hand to his own cock, but so he had shifted a bit more to correct his position, had given the tip of his boyfriend’s cock a harder suck before he had hollowed his cheek and had swallowed as much of the length in one go as he only could have done it, making sure that he had fondled the part that he had not been able to take in right away.

Cristiano had moaned and had let out a short string of Portuguese curses, sinking further down into the pillows he had been propped up on, apparently very determined to stop his hips from moving and while Leo had appreciated the consideration, he had wanted to let him know that he had been well able to take him. Breathing in through his nose in order to control his gag reflex, Leo had slacked his jaw and had swallowed the length of Cristiano’s cock down to the hilt, much like he had done it a year ago. The older man’s reaction to it, however, had been a different one. While it had been obvious, and necessary, that Cristiano had held himself back when Leo had dropped to his knees in the bathroom, he then had muffled none of the grunts and moans that had escaped him when Leo had took all of him into his throat.

There had been tears swimming in Leo’s eyes as he had pulled off just enough for him to relax his jaw for a second, well aware that he would have gotten sore if he would not have done it, before he had taken the Cristiano’s cock to a trip down his throat again and had begun to bob his head in earnest. “Bebê,” had been all that Cristiano had brought out and Leo had felt a wave of immense pride wash over him when he had looked up again and had seen how disheveled his boyfriend had already been. Cristiano’s lower lip had been caught between his teeth, his cheeks had been flushed and his eyes had seemed even darker than they had usually been. To know that it had been him who had brought him to that point had been enough to make Leo’s heart soar. He had made sure to not pull off too fast even though his lungs had been burning from the lack of air and it had been both him and Cristiano who had moaned when the cock had plopped free with an obscene wet sound, though he had not abandoned it. 

His heart had somersaulted when Cristiano had used the chand that had not been in his hair to grab him by the chin and he had continued to jerk him off, feeling him pulsating in his hand, and Cristiano had brushed his thumb over Leo’s lips once, twice, three times before he had let go of him again. “Eu te amo.” Instead of answering verbally, Leo had taken his boyfriend’s cock back into his mouth. That the older man had not been destined to last long he had known long before Cristiano had failed to keep the twitching of his hips and the moans that fell from his lips under control, but he yet had been taken by surprise when Cristiano’s fingers had tightened in his hair and he had spilled his release down his throat. “Oh meus Deus.”

Leo’s face had been blushed a dark shade of red after he had realised that he had come untouched and in his underwear. He had wanted to hurry off to the en suite, both to brush his teeth and jump onto the shower because he had doubted that Cristiano had wanted to lie down with him like that, and he had let out a quite high-pitched squeak when Cristiano had suddenly sat up, had cupped his face and had kissed him. There had been no doubt that his boyfriend had tasted himself in the kiss, though it had not seemed as if Cristiano had cared about that at all.

“Leo,” he had gasped into the kiss, “bebê, you’re so amazing...” Keeping Leo’s face in his hands, Cristiano had leaned back against the pillows again, effortlessly pulling Leo along with him so that the shorter man had been sprawled out on top of him. As opposed to before, their kiss had been a slow one, almost languidly, and Leo had been ready to burst into tears in that very moment. He had just been so in love with Cristiano. While they had laid there, kissing each other in the afterglow of their orgasms, the paparazzi and the game that they had been forced to play could not have been any further away and the Ballon d’Or that Leo had put down onto the side table could not have mattered any less. Leo had laid there on top of Cristiano after their kiss had ended, basking in the feeling of Cristiano combing through his hair and whispering sweet words of adoration to him.

After what could have been a minute or so, however, Cristiano had suddenly laughed, pressing his face into Leo’s hair as he had done so as if to hide the fact that he had failed to keep the grin off his face. The sound of confusion that Leo had made had gone by unregarded, and Cristiano’s laughter had grown in volume when the younger man had let out a rather impatient whine. “What?” he had drawled out, trying, and failing, to wind out of his boyfriend’s arms to get a look at his face.

“Should I be worried? Because you’re so good at this and we haven’t done this in a year.” Well aware that Cristiano had not been serious, Leo had rolled his eyes when the arms around him had tightened their hold and had pulled him flush against Cristiano’s hard chest, “You could definitely do that more often, bebê. Você é tão perfeito, não sei o que fiz para merecer ter você.”

What Cristiano had said to him had been a mystery, but he had hummed nonetheless. His boyfriend’s hand had not stopped combing through his hair and then that they had been lying there, Leo had realised just how exhausted he had been from the events of the day - the early morning, the troubles at the airport and the award ceremony. He had sighed, “Can you let me up?”

“Hm?”

“Please.”

Cristiano had not been all too happy, but had removed his arms from around Leo and had allowed him to climb off the bed, and Leo had almost dashed off to the bathroom, kicking off his underwear as soon as the door had been closed behind him. His cheeks had been burning with a bright shade of red when he had looked at himself in the mirror and had realised that a bit of cum had dried where it had drippled onto his chin. He had quickly washed his face before he had grabbed one of the toothbrushes and toothpastes the hotel had provided them with and had moved into the shower, having no troubles with getting the water to a comfortably hot temperature. Leo had stood underneath the stream for a moment and had let the hot water wash over him before he had begun to brush his teeth without bothering to keep his eyes open, and he had been proud of himself for not having flinched when the glass door had been slid open.

“You could’ve said something, you know,” Cristiano had said with a chuckle, stepping behind Leo to wrap his arms around him, “instead of abandoning me like that.”

“You’a scho dramatic,” Leo had mumbled around his moutful of toothpaste, suppressing a gasp when Cristiano had kissed the bruise he had left on his neck during their encounter in the bathroom.

The Portuguese had nipped at the sore spot once more before he had pulled back and had moved to stand underneath the stream as well. Not watching him doing so had been something that Leo never could have done, because the sight of water rippling over Cristiano’s body had been a feast for his eyes and if he would not have been so tired, he would have hinted at them making a second round right there in the shower. But since he had been positively exhausted and eager to get the sleep he desperately needed, he had only finished brushing his teeth and had continued to stand underneath the warm stream before he had stepped out of the shower while Cristiano had still been working conditioner into his hair.

Leo had hurried to dry himself off, yawning more frequently by then, and had padded back out of the en suite. His footsteps had been silent on the thick white carpet that the suite had been laid out with and he had done a quick job with pulling an oversized hoodie and a pair of boxer shorts out of his suitcase. The fact that the suite had merely been dimly had only caused his eye lids to feel more and more heavy; it had barely been midnight and he had known that he could easily sleep until eleven the next morning. The shower had still been running but instead of protesting about the way that Cristiano had taken endlessly long to finish his hair care routine, Leo had merely connected his phone to its charger and had crawled onto the king-sized bed, slipping underneath the covers and rolling over onto his stomach to get into a comfortable position.

Without having been really aware, he had sighed softly when he had pressed his face into the pillow and had found it carrying his boyfriend’s scent. He had smiled to himself and relaxed as he had been, he had not perceived how the Portuguese had eventually left the bathroom as well. Cristiano had laughed at the squeal that Leo had let out when he had wrapped an arm around him and had pulled him flush against him, tucking Leo’s head underneath his chin after having made sure that Leo had been completely covered by the duvet. The younger man had let out a content sound when he had been practically engulfed in Cristiano’s embrace. It had been what he had missed so much whenever there had been 600km between them. “Goodnight, bebê. I love you,” Cristiano had whispered, accompanying his words with a kiss into Leo’s damp hair.

“Love you too.” 

_**First anniversary, 11. January 2016.** _

When Leo had woke up on the morning of Cristiano’s and his first anniversary, he had been alone and he had whimpered at the loss of a warm body behind him. “Cris?”, he had whispered as he had turned over onto his back to blindly feel beside him, but the question of his boyfriend’s name had gone by unanswered and the mattress beside him had been cold and so he had rolled over onto his side again, pulling the duvet up to his nose.

Then that Cristiano had apparently decided to ditch him, Leo had suspected that he had wanted to get a workout in the hotel gym done, he had been in no hurry to actually get out of bed. His flight back to Barcelona had not been due until eight in the evening and it had not been as if Cristiano and him could have just left their suite and go on a stroll through Zurich and maybe have a nice lunch somewhere.

Leo had continued to lay there for a good few minutes before he had mustered the strength to crack one eye open. Unknowingly, he had turned to face the large window front of the suite, which had lead to a relatively large balcony and had offered a gorgeous view over the city. What had kept him from closing his eyes, however, had been the fact that the sky had been coloured a dark shade of grey and thick snowflakes had danced their way down from the clouds. Leo had only seen snow a couple of times in his life, as neither Barcelona nor Argentina had been exactly known for their snowy winters, and he had pulled the duvet a bit tighter around him as he had watched the blowing of the snow, rather glad that he had not needed to be outside in that moment.

Snow had been really beautiful to look at, but the cold had been much less adorable. He had watched it for a few minutes until he had grown bored and the pressure of his bladder had been too strong to ignore it. Moving back over onto his back, Leo had blindly reached for his phone where he had set it aside onto his nightstand the before he had crawled into bed the evening before, and his brows had narrowed in confusion when his hand had hit against something cool, something that had not been there last night. He had turned his head, and a faint shade of pink had risen into his face when he had sat up.

No, the porcelain vase holding a bouquet of lavender roses had definitely not stood there. The blush on Leo’s face had turned into a darker shade as he had moved to sit on the edge of the bed, carefully pulling out the folded note from underneath the vase to read it. _I’m out with Junior and Mãe bebê, I didn’t want to wake you up because you looked so cute :-) <3 It won’t be long! Love, Cris._

Smiling to himself, Leo had shaken his head and had taken the vase into his hands to smell at the roses. It had been a cute little detail that Cristiano had bought him the same roses he had gotten him for their first date after the Ballon d’Or 2015 and even if he would have wanted to, he never would have been able to stay mad at him. Leo had put the vase back down before he had hurried to the bathroom to get his morning routine done. He had no idea about how long Cristiano had been gone and when he would be due to return, and so he had taken his phone and his headphones and had laid back down in bed, still dressed in the oversized hoodie and his boxer shorts to listen to one of his audio books.

Leo had not fallen back asleep, had merely listened to the soothing voice of the reader, but with the headphones in his ears had hindered him from becoming startled when Cristiano had unlocked the door. It had not only been his boyfriend that had walked in, however, but Dolores and little Junior as well. The boy had been holding onto two of his father’s fingers as he had toddled, holding his Barça teddy bear by one leg.

Dolores let out a quiet chuckle, “Is he still asleep?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Cristiano had said, and the corners of his mouth had turned up into a smile as he had walked over to the bed after having taken off his own and his son’s shoes. Junior had since become impatient, apparently having remembered Cristiano’s promise that he would be able to see Leo soon, and Cristiano had shushed his whine. “Wait, menino. Wait.” While Dolores had set the paper bags she had brought down onto a nearby side table to unpack them, Cristiano had picked his son up and had sat down beside Leo. He had grinned when his boyfriend had flinched and had nearly torn the headphones out of his ears, flipping over onto his back to look up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re back?”

Instead of answering, Cristiano had leaned down and had kissed Leo, plonking Junior down on top of him, “Feliz aniversário, bebê. Eu te amo.”

Leo had felt himself blushing, a bit overwhelmed by everything that had been happening and he had smiled at the Portuguese before he had shifted his attention to the toddler that had then been squirming on top of him, “I missed you, niño.”

“Leo,” had been all that Junior had said, holding his Barça teddy securely in his arms while he had nestled his cheek against Leo’s chest. “Play with me?”

“Of course I’ll play with you.” Leo had combed a hand through Junior’s curls, refusing to allow himself to tear up as he had thought about how much the boy had meant to him, how much he had seen him grow that past year and how much it had felt as if his family had been torn apart whenever Cristiano and him had not been together and in the same city, “Where are your toys, niño?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, given how bad my anxiety was those past few days I'm really glad that I managed to get this done :-)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not back to regular updates, but I'm trying my best and I hope that the length of the chapter makes up for it a bit. **There's just a lot happening in my life right now - planning my move to a different country and my mental health are only two things, so for now I plan on updating once a month.**
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this! :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Cristiano’s 31st birthday, 05. February 2016.** _

Leo had been in the gym with Neymar and Luis when he had gotten an unannounced and rather unexpected call from Dolores. Since he had been in the headspace that he had always entered whenever he had worked out, it had taken him quite a few seconds to realise that the song he had been listening had stopped playing and that it had been his phone that had been vibrating and Leo had stepped off the treadmill to answer it without checking the caller ID. “Yeah?” he had managed to bring out, wiping at his face with a corner of the towel that had been hanging around his neck.

“Oh I’m sorry Leo, am I disturbing you right now? Do you want me to call you later?”

The caller, who had turned out to have been Dolores, had sounded sincerely sorry and Leo’s initial fear of her calling because of an emergency regarding either Cristiano or Junior had vanished into thin air once it had begun to set in that there had been no panic in her voice, causing him to sigh in relief. “Nonono it’s fine,” Leo had hurried to say, trying to catch his breath at the same time between two deep drags from his water bottle. “You’re not disturbing me, Dolores, we can talk now.”

Cristiano’s mother had laughed on the other end of the line, just as kind as she had always done it when she had been around him, “Well first of all I wanted to ask you how you’re doing, docinho.

Leo had huffed a laugh and had walked over to a nearby bench, plopping down onto it with a supressed sigh. He had ruffled a hand through his hair, “I’m doing good, very good,” he had said and had repeated the motion of wiping at his face. “How are you?”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m as good as always.” Dolores might have answered to his question with another laugh, but Leo still had made sure that he had been listening closely, as Cristiano had mentioned that his mother had been due to attend one of her regular doctor’s appointments to ensure that her cancer had not come back. “Junior is definitely starting to get more and more demanding but I’m not complaining about it, and you should not worry about me.” Leo had only smiled, he had known better than to try and argue with her by stating that some worry had been appropriate. “Now, enough babbling. I wanted to ask you when you’re coming to Madrid.”

He had drunk from his water bottle once more before he had spoken, “I thought about flying over on the fifth? That’s what I discussed with Cristiano, at least. I haven’t actually booked my flight yet.” There had still been a bit more than two weeks left until his boyfriend’s birthday had been due and while Leo had since bought all of the presents, when he would actually see him had not been decided - that Leo would go to Madrid even if Cristiano and him would not talk about it had been long decided.

“Would you like to come over a day earlier, on the fourth?”

The tone of Dolores’ voice had been a cheerful one, so as if he had already agreed to the plan that she had apparently planned of him, and Leo’s brows had pulled together for a second, “Did you talk with Cristiano about that yet?”

“No, docinho,” Dolores had laughed, “because I also wanted to ask you whether you’d like to help me with the preparations for his birthday. You can stay at my home for the night and then we’ll give him a proper surprise in the morning. And if I remember correctly, Cris didn’t exactly let you know when he came to Barcelona on your birthday...”

It had not been as if she had really needed to convince him, but Leo had appreciated the fact that she had been willing to put some effort into her persuasion of him, “No, no he didn’t. He lied to me and said that he couldn’t come.”

Cristiano’s mother had chuckled underneath her breath and it had sounded like she had been washing dishes on the side while talking to him, “So you will come earlier?”

Leo had nodded even though she had not been able to see it. “Yes, I’ll book a flight as soon as I’m home.” Dolores’ laughter had caused him to smile as well. Given how much his relationship with his own mother had suffered over the past few years, he had been more than glad to be on honestly friendly terms with his boyfriend’s mother, “I’ll make sure to come on the fourth.”

“Oh that is very good docinho, very good!” She had laughed even louder and Leo just had to join her, “I know that he’ll be cross with the both of us but it will be worth it.” They had talked for a few more minutes, with Dolores telling Leo all about the great day she had spend with Junior and the incredible progress the toddler had made when it had come to his speech and Leo had tried to convince himself that the twinge he had felt in his chest at the realisation that he had not been there to witness it had been due to the exertion of the workout he had gone through rather than unjustified jealousy. “We’re all so exited to see you again, Leo.”

༻✦༺

He had indeed booked a flight from Barcelona to Madrid for the fourth rather than the fifth of February and had send a screenshot of the details to Dolores before he had banished out of his mind as good as he only could have done it, because he had been scared of accidentally letting it slip whenever he had been talking to Cristiano on the phone. In hindsight, Leo had to admit that it had been a good idea that Dolores had suggested him to fly over a day sooner than he had originally planned to do it, as it had meant that he had been able to endulge in a lot more preparations than he could have done it if he would have needed to board a flight on the fifth. All that he had been due to do during the last remaning few days until Cristiano’s birthday had been to keep the façade upwright every time that he had been talking to his boyfriend.

He had not been all that comfortable with living a lie like that, but it had been made a bit easier by the fact that Cristiano had lied to him when it had come to to his birthday as well. It had, however, not been before the end of January that Cristiano had actually mentioned his approaching birthday. Leo had been cutting vegetables for his dinner late one evening when his boyfriend had FaceTimed him. He had quickly put the knife down, had dried his hand on a dish towel and had propped his phone up against the pot with the basil that had stood on the windowsill of the kitchen window after he had accepted the call.

“Hey bebê,” Cristiano had greeted him with one of his million dollar smiles, “how are you?”

“Good,” Leo had retorted, making sure that his smile had not been as smug as it could have been with the knowledge that he had, and he had turned his gaze back down onto the cutting board in front of him and the bell pepper that he had been in the process of cutting. “A bit tired, nothing too bad.”

“But you’re okay? Not hurt or anything?”

He had looked up at Cristiano’s question, easily having caught the underlying hint of worry in his voice, “I’m just tired, Cristiano, really. I’m fine. How was your day?”

The Portuguese had let out a drawled-out sigh and if Leo would have looked up and at him, he would have seen that Cristiano had been sprawled out on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. “Exhausting,” Cristiano had said with a suppressed snort, “training was perfect, but I had a minor... disagreement with Sergio afterwards so that wasn’t all that good. Junior was a lot, too. He’s becoming a handful, you know?”

Leo had laughed once, “Yeah, you told me all about it.”

The other man had moved a tired hand over his face and Leo had felt his boyfriend’s gaze on him while he had finished cutting the bell peppers and had moved on to the stove. “Oh meus Deus, he’ll turn three this year, Leo. Three! Where did the time go?”

“I wonder how long it’ll be until he can ask me to take him to Camp Nou.”

He had grinned and had ducked his head when Cristiano had glared at him through the phone. “That won’t ever happen, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Mhm, sure you will,” Leo had snorted, rolling his eyes at what Cristiano had said.

“Bebê?”

“Yeah?”

“When are you coming to Madrid? I really can’t wait to see you again. In person, I mean.”

Hesitating for a few seconds, he had cleared his throat and had set the knife down before he had opened his mouth to speak. Whether he had succeeded at hindering a blush from creeping up onto his face, Leo had not known. “Cris, I... I won’t be able to make it on your birthday.”

“What?!” Leo had needed to harden his heart when he had dared to look up and had seen the crestfallen look on Cristiano’s face, “You’re not coming?! Why?!”

“They need me here,” he had said, his voice having dropped to a lower level as he had busied himself by putting the cut-up vegetables into the frying pan and he suddenly had not felt all that convinced about his lie. “I’m really sorry, I tried to talk with them but-”

“Great,” Cristiano had cut him off with a humorless laugh. “Eles realmente acham que eu deveria comemorar meu aniversário sem meu namorado? Foda-se não, eu vou mostrar a eles!”

“Cris...”

“I don’t blame you,” the older man had muttered, but the pout on his face had been undeniable, “I know that it’s not your fault but that just ruined my birthday! Qual é o problema deles? Eu quero te ver!” Cristiano had sighed. “Bebê?” Leo had merely swallowed hard and had stirred in the pan. “When will I see you again? I miss you, Junior misses you too and I...”

He had managed a small smile, “Valentine’s Day, I think.”

“This sucks,” Cristiano had whined and Leo had really needed to keep himself in check to not just let out the fact that he had made plans with Cristiano’s mother in order to prepare a nice surprise of his birthday. “Fuck, this is everything _but_ what I wanted to hear. I just want to spend my birthday with you, is that too much to ask for? Eu simplesmente não me sinto completo quando você não está comigo e eu não posso lidar com isso, Leo.” Cristiano’s reaction to being told that he would not see his boyfriend on his birthday had been quite the opposite to what Leo’s reaction had been when Cristiano had told him the same, but it had been of no real surprise to Leo because other than him, it had not been something that Cristiano had been used to. He himself had been rather used to spending birthdays and holidays all alone while Cristiano had never been without at least a part of his family.

Leo had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when there had been a moment of heavy silence. “I’m sorry,” he had eventually whispered, “I hope you know that I would come if I could...”

The Portugese had sighed, had moved a hand through his hair and had muttered something that had been too quiet for Leo to have caught it, “I’m not blaming you bebê, and I’m sorry for having raised my voice like that. I just really hate your job sometimes.”

“Well I hate yours too,” Leo had said with a laugh, “especially the club you chose to play for.”

“Says the Blaugrana!”, Cristiano had retorted. “ _Anyway_ , I really want to talk to whoever it is that’s responsible for keeping you away from me. Deus, eu odeio isso. Eu só quero adormecer com você em meus braços, bebê.” Leo had stayed quiet, shifting his attention back onto the stove while Cristiano had watched him for a long moment and his heart may have somersaulted when he had, for just the split of a second, thought that Cristiano had been about to expose his lie. His boyfriend, however, had merely stood up from the couch with a resignated sigh, so as if he had been wholeheartedly devastated by what Leo had told him.

“Can’t change that now,” Cristiano had muttered, “if it’s club duty people will notice and _talk_ if you don’t show up and come to see me instead.” Leo had only managed to smile before the Portuguese had went on. “But it doesn’t matter, bebê. I love you and... there was a time when we didn’t see each other for... three months, right? We’ll manage?” A bit taken aback by the sudden display of uncertainty, he had blushed and had looked at Cristiano like a deer that had been caught in the headlights of a car. “Bebê?”

The blush on his face had darkened and he had cursed underneath his breath when he had nearly burned his vegetables, “Yeah, of course,” Leo had said, “we will. I love you, Cristiano.”

The older man had made an approving sound and had winked at him, the look of disappointment replaced by a smile, “I love you too, bebê, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

༻✦༺

In the end, Leo had managed to keeo the façade upright, even when it had been time for him to board the flight to Madrid on the fourth of February. He had just been about to go through boarding whn Cristiano had called him but since he would not have been able to answer it without his boyfriend realising that he had been at the airport and the drama that it would have caused had not been something that Leo had wanted to live through, so he had let his phone vibrating in the pocket of his hoodie. It had only been when he had claimed his seat in the first class compartment that he had pulled his phone out and had send a quick text to Cristiano. 

[Sorry, I can’t really talk right now. Is everything okay? 👀]

Cristiano’s answer had been almost immediate, so as if the Portuguese had already been on his phone.

 _Cristiano_ : [That’s okay bebê, I’ll call you later then! 😁 Don’t worry nothing happened, I just wanted to see your pretty face 🥰]

Leo had bitten down onto the insides of his cheeks, feeling himself blushing. That he had been with Cristiano for more than a year by then had not really mattered, he still had not been used to the bold way his boyfriend had sometimes behaved around him.

[I’ll call you as soon as I’m free ❤️]

 _Cristiano_ : [Well that’s what I hope ❤️😘]

After that Leo had been on edge the entire eighty-five minutes it had taken for the plane to land at Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport, bouncing his knee almost unconsciously while he had tried not to think about how it would be to surprise his boyfriend on his birthday. If he had felt bad for having lied? A bit, but mostly because Cristiano had seemed honestly devastated by the fact that he could not be visiting him and Leo had nearly said the truth when Cristiano had told him about how sad Junior had seemed to have been due to his absence. “He’s asking a lot about you, bebê. He always wants to play with you and it’s hard for me to tell him that he won’t be seeing you for a few more weeks.”

Well, he had hoped, had known that it would all eventually turn out to be worth it, as he had clearly remembered how happy Cristiano had been when he had turned up at his house after having claimed to fly to Florence with Neymar. Once he had gotten his suitcase from the luggage carousel, Leo had hurried to catch a cab as quickly as he only could have done it, not very eager to be spotted as that easily would have ruined Dolores’ and his plans. Cristiano’s mother had offered to come and get him, but he would have needed to be damned if he would have expected her to do so when he had been able to take a cab and he had turned her offer down with more vehemence than he had ever done it. Leo had been lucky enough to catch a cab driver who apparently had not cared about football and his passenger in the slightest, nor had been eager to start a conversation either.

Leo had used the fact that the cab driver had rather listened to the radio thank talk to him to come after his promise: that he would call Cristiano as soon as he would be free to do so. He had eyed the driver a bit warily for a moment, even though he had known that he would be perfectly save as long as he doesn’t let his boyfriend’s name slip, all the more so since the driver had closed the partition between them. The drive would more than twenty-five minutes, enough time for a quick call. He had, however, unconsciously stopped smiling when his call had gone by unanswered and had landed in Cristiano’s voice mail. Instead of connecting him with his boyfriend, his phone had then merely vibrated where he had held it against his ear, signaling that he had gotten a text message. Dolores had texted him, and Leo had face his cheeks burning up because that definitely had not been the change of plans he had expected.

 _Dolores:_ [Docinho, I just want to let you know that Cristiano came over]

[I’m already in the cab, do you want me to turn around and go back? I can go, eat something and come back once Cris left :-)]

 _Dolores:_ [Nonsense, he won’t suspect a thing 😉 Let me know when you’re here and I’ll let you in!]

Leo had answered that he had been okay with her suggestion, and when there had been no more texts coming from Cristiano’s mother, he had resumed to watch the episode of Grey’s Anatomy he had started during the flight, waiting for the cab driver to announce that they had arrived.

When Dolores had opened the door, she had been ready to give Leo a gentle scolding for not allowing her to get him from the airport, but instead of her son’s boyfriend it had been Cristiano, balancing her grandson on his hip. She had cleared her throat to try and hide her confusion about his unannounced visit - Cristiano had only come and picked Junior up after Dolores had watched him for the day about half an hour earlier. “Cristiano,” she had said, immediately stepping aside to allow her youngest son to enter after she had snapped out of her moment of confusion, “come in.”

“I hope this is okay,” Cristiano had muttered, and it had only been after she had closed the door behind him that she had noticed how red-rimmed his eyes had been.

“It always is, menino.” It had been the truth, she would have needed to be blind in order to not see that her son had been anything but alright and Dolores had followed Cristiano, who had made his way to the living room, bouncing his young son, “I’ll be right there with you.”

“That’s okay, Mãe.”

Dolores had waited until her son had disappeared out of sight before she had taken her phone and had send a quick message to Leo, glad that he had answered immediately and it had only been after she had known that Leo would text her when he would arriver that she had joined Cristiano and Junior in the living room. While her young grandson had been sitting on the floor, babbling as he had flipped through a picture book, Cristiano had been slumped rather than sitting on the couch, his face buried in his hands. It had been all she had needed to see in order to know that whatever had torn him down from his usually good mood had been serious.

“Menino,” Dolores had said, her tone similar to the one that she had used when Cristiano had been a young child and had scraped his knees, and had laid an arm around him as good as she could have done it, “what is it, hm? What happened?”

Cristiano had stayed quiet for a few seconds, not revealing his face, and Dolores had pulled him a bit closer. There had been no mistaking in the fact that his shoulders had been tense and, after all, she had seen him crying and trying to hide his tears more often than she would have liked to. Her son had suddenly let out a breath that had been a choked sob more than anything else when he had sat up a bit straighter, only moving his hands to wipe at his face. “It-It’s pathetic,” Cristiano had whispered, looking down at the wetness on his palms as if it had disgusted him, “because I literally have no reason to think that but...”

He had trailed off, and Dolores had suppressed a sigh. “Is it Leo?”, she had asked, brushing a curl away from his forehead to tuck it behind his ear.

Cristiano had nodded, “Yeah.” His voice had not been raised above a whisper, “You know that he’s not able to make it tomorrow and I... I just miss him, Mãe.” Dolores had tilted her head, not saying anything when she had wiped away the tear that had made its way down her son’s face. “And that I have to wait two more weeks is...” Cristiano had cut himself off and had hidden his face once again, letting out another sob, “I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, Mãe. I thought that it would get easier, hell I thought that it won’t even get bad... I mean it’s been a year now and I trust him, I really do but it’s... well, I tried to call him a few hours ago.” He had wiped at his face rather roughly, “He said that he’s not able to talk and will call me back but he _didn’t_.”

“Cris-”

“Leo’s been like this for a while now. What if I’m losing him? What if he decided that he can’t do the distance? What if he found... someone else?”

Dolores had forced a smile down; Leo had told her how badly Cristiano had reacted to the news but she had known that the surprise she had planned would easily heal the wounds Leo’s white lie had caused. “I understand that, meu filho, but you can’t tell me that you really think that Leo is cheating on you.”

Cristiano had looked at her as if she had insulted him, “I did _not_ say that and it’s not what I meant, Mãe! I’d never... Leo’s the sweetest person I know and I... fuck, I just hate that he’s in Barcelona and we’re here. How will I be able to explain it to Junior once he’s older? That he can’t just see him whenever he wants to?”

“You’re breaking your mind over it, menino, and it’s so unnecessary. You should try and talk to him about that, I’m sure that he doesn’t know about how you’re feeling.”

“But I don’t want to be burden either...”

Dolores had been about to speak when her phone had vibrated where she had discarded it onto the couch beside her. It had been a text from Leo.

 _Leo:_ [I’m here :-)]

“Mãe?”

“I’ll be back in a moment, okay? Would you like a tea?” The way that Cristiano had looked up at her, he had seemed more like a young boy in need of his Mãe’s care rather than the thirty-one-year-old he had been about to become, and he had given a small nod. Dolores had smiled at her son, had bend down to pat the top of Junior’s head, who had still been babbling on the floor, and had made sure that she had left the door ajar behind her, fearing that closing it would only spike Cristiano’s interest.

Leo had failed to keep himself from blushing when he had stood there on the drive way of his boyfriend’s mother’s house for a few moments, trying not to think about how Cristiano had been in there but he had not been able to see him and then that he had been faced with it, he had, once more, wished that he never would have agreed to Dolores’ plan in the first place because he had been downright aching to be in Cristiano’s arms again. Drawing in a deep breath, he had taken his suitcase and had walked up to the front door, his eyes fixed on his boyfriend’s Bugatti that had been parked rather askew in front of the garage. He had nearly smacked himself, just so stopping himself from ringing the door bell which definitely would not have been the best idea and he had send a text to Dolores instead.

“Docinho,” had been what she had greeted him with, and her smile had been as honest as always when she had stepped aside to enable him to enter. “Come in, Cristiano and Junior are in the living room.”

“And... where am I supposed to go?”

Leo had blushed to a darker shade due to the way that his cheek had been patted in a motherly gesture. “I prepared the guest room upstairs for you,” Dolores had pointed at the staircase, “it’s the third door on the right.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, docinho. Go now, I have to make Cris his tea. I’ll let you know when he’s gone.”

Leo had nodded rather absentmindedly and his heart had plummeted into the pit of his stomach when he had heard the unmistakable sound of Junior’s babbling, though he had forced himself to move instead of standing around and listen to it like he had been playing a part in some badly written movie.

Dolores had re-entered the living room a few minutes later, balancing a tray with two steaming cups of tea for Cristiano and herself and a glass of apple spritzer for Junior. “I’m sorry it took so long, menino,” she had said, offering her son an apologetic smile, “I had troubles finding the kettle.” Cristiano had responded with a short-lived smile, only taking a short break from watching his toddler son, who had been pointing at various dinosaurs in his picture book and had been happily babbling to himself. She had smiled at the scene, then even more content with the knowledge that the man who had completed her son’s little family had been upstairs, waiting as Cristiano’s very own birthday present.

They had fallen silent, the room quiet except for the ticking of the grandfather’s clock and Junior’s childlike babbling after Dolores had passed one of the cups to Cristiano and even though her son had appeared very focused on the task of not burning the tip of his tongue, she had been very much able to see how his mind had been running in circles. Before she could have said anything, however, Cristiano had sighed and had turned his head to look at her. “Did he... say anything to you? That he’s unhappy or anything?”

Dolores had taken one more careful sip from her tea, smiling when she had set the cup down. “No,” she had stated rather frankly, “all that he told me was that he’s very very sorry that he can’t make it, Leo wants to see you just as much as you want to see him.” Cristiano had looked down at the cup in his hands and if Dolores would not have been used to her son’s emotional moments, she would have been worried. Her son had always managed to stay strong for an incredibly long time before it would break out of him. “Did you call him again? Maybe something came in between and he just forgot to call you back.” Sighing, Cristiano had muttered something about how Leo had promised that he would call him back but had reached inside the pocket of his sweatpants and had pulled his phone out nonetheless. Dolores had already had a suspicion what had happened when her son’s face had fallen for a second. “Nino? Is everything okay?”

“Merda,” he had muttered and the way he had brushed a hand over his face had seemed frustrated rather than weary. “Leo called me, but my phone was on silence. Foda-se isso!” She had hidden her smile by quickly resuming to drink her tea, biting back a comment about how she had told him that he had been worrying about nothing. “Come here, meu amor,” Cristiano had said after having cleared his throat, patting his thigh in order to get Junior’s attention, “come, let’s give Leo a call, hm?”

“Leo?” The toddler had squealed and had immediately discarded his picture book to scramble onto his feet, toddling over to his father. “Leo!” The look of not-so-minor heartache had disappeared from Cristiano’s face and had been replaced by a smile when he had wrapped an arm around Junior and had pulled his toddler son onto his lap, making sure that he would not accidentally bang the boy’s legs against the edge of the coffee table. “Leo?”

“We’ll call him, okay?” Cristiano had whispered, accompanying his words with a little kiss onto the top of Junior’s head, “We’ll talk to him for a bit.” Junior had nodded and had rubbed at his eyes with his small, balled-up fists, leaning back against his father, who had been typing away at his phone to select Leo’s contact and FaceTime his lover as fast as he could have done it without appearing too desperate. “Let’s see what he’s up to, hm?”

Dolores had sipped at her tea with slow sips, fearing that she might let something slip otherwise, and had instead watched how Cristiano had worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he had waited for the younger man to pick up. When Leo had indeed picked up, Cristiano’s face had lit up in a way that had warmed Dolores’ mother heart and Leo had not even gotten around to greet him before Cristiano had started talking. “I’m sorry that I didn’t pick you when you called, my phone was on silent and... yeah,” he had said, his eyes roaming over the screen of his phone as if he had not seen his boyfriend’s face in a very long time.

Leo had laughed, but it had been undeniable that it had been in no way meant to make fun of Cristiano. “That’s okay, I would’ve called you later anyway.” Cristiano’s and Leo’s conversation had been interrupted by Junior, who had let out a small cooing sound while he had grabbed at his father’s wrist with one and had tried to get a hold of the phone with the other hand. There had been no mistaking in the fact that the two-year-old had very much understood who it had been that had been talking in the other end of the line. “Hey niño,” Leo had said, and Dolores had downright heard the smile in his voice. “How are you? Good I hope.”

“Leeeooo!”

“We miss you.” Cristiano had said it as if it had been a statement that he had to make, and his eyes had stayed fixed on the phone screen while he had absentmintedly nuzzled his nose into Junior’s unruly curls. “It really su- It’s really bad that you can’t be here with me, tomorrow would definitely be better if you wouldn’t be stuck with the enemy.”

“ _The enemy?_ ” Leo had snorted, “Cristiano, you just wait until Junior is one of us and you’ll have to think twice about saying something like that.”

As if the two-year-old had understood it, Junior had squealed and had clapped his chubby hands together in delight. “Oh meus Deus,” Cristiano had groaned, though the corners of his mouth had twitched. He had kissed the top of his son’s head again. “ _Anyway_ ,” he had drawled out, “what are you doing in bed, bebê? It’s not even seven yet.”

Leo had let out a well-placed yawn. “I’ll have an early start tomorrow and... I’ll try to call you as soon as I’m free, okay? Don’t think that I won’t be thinking about you the entire day tomorrow, because I will. I hope that you’ll have a great birthday, Cristiano.”

“Eu te amo.”

“I love you too.”

Tilting his head, Cristiano had smiled with all honesty, “You look tired, bebê. I don’t want to keep you up for much longer. Get some rest, you need it.”

The younger man had sighed, an action that had been followed by the sound of the duvet shifting, “I’ll do that, I have to look good for tomorrow.”

“You always look good, bebê.”

“Thank you,” Leo had laughed, “but eye bags usually don’t look that good on photos.”

“That’s definitely true.” Cristiano had sighed, “Okay bebê, I’ll talk to you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Dolores had immediately noticed how her son’s smile had taken on a rather sad turn again when he had nodded even though Leo had not been able to see it, “Say bye bye to Leo, meu amor.”

“Bye bye,” the toddler had repeated after his father, even waving one of his small hands. “Bye bye!”

The way that Junior had giggled had told Dolores that Leo must have waved back. “Bye bye Junior, I can’t wait to see you again niño.”

The line had gone dead, and Cristiano had sighed when he had locked his phone and had put it back into the pocket of his sweatpants, humming a tune in an attempt to quiet the whimpers Junior had let out. “Thank you, Mãe,” Cristiano had said, managing to muster a small smile as he had moved to pick up his somewhat discarded cup to drink the remaining rest of the tea his mother had brewed for him.

“You’re always welcome, menino.”

He had sipped his tea in silence and had stood up from the couch as soon as he had been done, “I think that I’ll get going now, this little man needs a bath and something to eat.” Junior, who had still been whining, obviously unhappy, had squirmed and tried to wriggle his way out of his father’s lap, but Cristiano had kept a secure hold on him. “Shh it’s okay, we’re going home now.” Despite her son’s immediate protest, it had been Dolores who had bend down and had picked up Junior’s picture books, putting them back into the bag Cristiano had brought along. He had offered her a kind smile after she had brought him to the door even though he easily would have been able to find it on his own, of course, and Dolores had not missed the small sigh that had escaped her son when she had kissed his cheek before she had done the same to Junior.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, docinho. Try not to think about it too much.” There had been no mistaking in the fact that Cristiano had known just what she had meant with it, but Dolores had decided to let it slip when his answer of “I won’t” had not really convinced her. She had understood him well enough, after all.

Leo had muffled the groan that just had to escape him after he had ended the FaceTime call and had dropped his phone onto the bed beside him in the depths of a nearby pillow. Not only had he been embarrassed by the lies he had told his boyfriend over and over again, what had really made him want to cry and laugh hysterically at the same time had been the fact that he had crawled underneath the duvet fully dressed in his day clothes to keep the construct of lies upright. Dolores, however, had been right with what she had said. Not only would it give Leo a chance to wholeheartedly get back at Cristiano for the “surprise” he had pulled off on his birthday, but he had known that Cristiano would be happy to see him. Leo would be too, of course.

Being apart from his boyfriend and Cristiano’s toddler son had not longer been as heartbreaking and devastating as it had been during the first few months of their relationship, but he would have preferred it if he would have been able to come home to both of them every single day, to wake up and make breakfast for all three of them, to do the chores that he had loved while Cristiano had downright despised them. They might have been able to live just that dream of his, but it had been impossibly far away during the moment that Leo had spend lying outstretched on the bed in Dolores’ guest room. He had been pulled out of his wishful thinking about the many possible what-ifs by a knock on the door. Cristiano’s mother had entered before Leo even had the chance to answer, but he had not taken it as an invasion of any kind. “Did they leave?”

“You can come out of hiding, docinho. The air’s clear.” Leo had nodded and had, with faintly blushed cheeks, climbed off the bed to follow after Dolores, who had already turned on her heels after winking at him. The young Argentine had combed both hands through his hair when he had skipped down the stairs, still feeling a bit uneay about the fact that he had been hiding upstairs while Cristiano and little Junior had been in the living room and Cristiano had been so obviously distressed. Dolores had not even needed to mention it to him - Leo had known. Soft Portuguese music had been playing in the background as Leo had entered the kitchen. He had immediately felt himself beginning to relax, it had been so familiar and he had appreciated it more than he had ever thought he would. “Docinho, could you get the mixer? It’s in the cupboard beside the fridge,” Dolores had asked him as she had retrieved the last few ingredients she had needed to prepare the batter for the apple pie that Leo and her had agreed to bake for Cristiano.

“Yeah, of course.”

While Dolores had worked on the batter, Leo had begun to wash, peel, core and cut-up the apples. Baking the pie had been Leo’s idea, after Dolores had, rather casually, mentioned that it had been one of Cristiano’s childhood favourites. “I know it’s very hard to believe,” Cristiano’s mother had begun after they had worked in silence for a minute or two, “but he used to eat a lot of cake.”

Leo had let out a surprised sound before he could have stopped himself, “He did?” He had snorted in disbelief, “Really?”

“He’d sometimes skip dinner or run an extra mile just to eat a piece.” Dolores had shaken her head at the memories, “He was quite a handful sometimes when he was younger, you know?”

Huffing another laugh, Leo had set down the knife he had been using and had turned to look at his boyfriend’s mother, “Cristiano won’t be too happy with you telling me all about that, will he?”

“Well, you really don’t have to tell him, do you? It can be our little secret, docinho.”

He had drummed his fingers against the countertop, almost grinning from ear to ear, “I never read anything about him being problematic as a child.”

“He wasn’t problematic per se,” Dolores had rowed back, though there had been a teasing twinkle in her eyes, “Cristiano was just... a lot sometimes. Now, in hindsight, I have to admit that I was annoyed more of then that I was delighted when I had to come to those weekly games of his on the weekend. It was a lot, but you probably already know that, don’t you?” Leo had nodded. “We didn’t have a lot of money and José and I had so many other worries that sometimes I got so annoyed that I wanted to forbid him from going.”

“That would’ve been a shame...”

“And it never would’ve worked,” Cristiano’s mother had laughed, “it’s always been his passion, ever since he was old enought to walk.”

“Yeah, you can’t deny that.”

She had continued to look and smile at him in the most knowing way, causing Leo to blush and turn back towards the cutting board, “He loves you a lot, docinho, and he’ll be very happy tomorrow because you will be there to surprise him on his birthday.”

The blush on his face had darkened; that it had been what he had hoped for, Leo had not mentioned that time. He had resumed to cut the apples into thin slices, “I love him too.”

“Oh I know, I can see that.”

The baking session had taken a while longer than Leo had thought it would, quite frankly because he had forgotten that they not only had to bake for Cristiano, but for the other guests of the birthday party as well and by the time that the pies had been cooled off and stashed away in the fridge for the night, the kitchen had been cleaned and Dolores and him had whipped together a small dinner, it had been well past the time that Leo had usually gone to bed. Well aware that he had been granted a rare chance to sleep in the following morning, as Cristiano and a few friends of his would go out for breakfast and Dolores and Leo would meet them at Cristiano’s house around midday, Leo had not hurried through his evening routine and had not tried to argue with Dolores when she had offered him a late cup of tea.

He had appreciated how familiar it had already felt to pour his heart and sorrows out in front of Dolores, so as if he had not been his boyfriend’s, but his own mother as well. She had listened, had asked him how training had been going even though Leo had known that football had never been one of her main interests and in return he had asked her about her health, whether there had been something that she had not mentioned in front of her son. There had not been - luckily so, as Leo never would have been able to keep it from Cristiano if there would have been worrisome news about his mother.

Dolores and Leo had sat together for a while, and Leo had merely brushed his teeth before he had crawled into bed, a faint smile on his lips when he had thought about how he would be sharing a bed with Cristiano the next time he would fall asleep.

༻✦༺

When Leo had woken up the first morning, he had been greeted by unexpected sunshine and an equally unexpected clear blue and cloudless sky. A dreamy smile had grown on his face as he had rolled over onto his back, ruffling his hands through his hair and just looking out of the window for a moment before he had blindly reached for his phone on the nightstand. He had let out a surprised sound when he had realised that it had been well past nine - the last time he had been able to quite sleep in like this had been Cristiano’s and his anniversary.

Leo had been about to call his boyfriend, but had remembered that Cristiano had probably already been out with Sergio and whoever it had been that he had invited, and thus had fallen back onto sending him a message instead, telling him that he had loved him, that he had wished him a very happy birthday and that he had still been sorry about not having been able to come and be there with him. After having send the message and having watched it being delivered, though not read, Leo had set his phone aside again and had disappeared into the en suite of the guest room for a shave and a quick shower.

He had checked his phone for an answer from his boyfriend and had, when there had been no notification, moved downstairs to look for Dolores. To his dislike, Cristiano’s mother had already begun to prepare breakfast for them without waiting for Leo to help her. “Dolores-”

She had clicked her tongue and had turned around from where she had been making scrambled eggs, “Don’t even try it, docinho, you should know that by now. Sit, I made you coffee while you were in the bathroom.”

Leo had blushed a bit, simply because he had never grown used to her scolding him as if he had been nothing but a child, and had moved to sit down at the kitchen table instead, taking the glass of Latte Macchiato which had been waiting there for him into both hands as if he had needed to warm them, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, docinho.” He had sipped at his still-hot coffee while he had watched how Cristiano’s mother had finished the eggs and had put them onto the plates that had already been garnished with avocado toast and slices of tomatoes. “Cris held me a lecture about the _importance of proteins in the morning,_ ” Dolores had said with a laugh, walking over to where Leo had been sitting to put one of the plates down in front of him, “so I learned how to make a _proper_ breakfast.”

He had snorted, his smile widening, “That does sound like the Cristiano I know. I’m surprised that he didn’t actually request a kale cake or something.”

“That’s where I would’ve drawn the line. Bom apetite.”

They had chattered while they had eaten, and Leo had that time vehemently insisted that he would not just sit by and watch Dolores doing the dishes all by herself. “Did you talk to him yet?”, he had asked her, trying not to think about his phone that he had left in the guest bedroom. If Cristiano would have called him, he easily would have heard the ringtone from downstairs.

Dolores had nodded, “He was just about to leave for breakfast when I called him,” she had said with a nod, turning her head to smile at him. “I must say that he didn’t sound very happy about the fact that he couldn’t stay in and have breakfast with you and Junior alone.” Leo had felt his cheeks heating up and he had turned his focus onto the plate in his hands, making sure that he had dried every droplet of water off the porcelain. Cristiano’s mother had nudged him in the rips. “Aw docinho, you don’t have to feel so sorry. He lied to you in the first place, no? And you can’t tell me that you were all that happy when you had to spend your birthday alone.”

“I wasn’t,” he had mumbled, “but I didn’t want to ruin his day.”

“You didn’t ruin it, don’t say something like that. He’ll be perfectly happy as soon as you’ll walk through the front door, you’ll see.”

After the dishes had been done and the pies had been taken out of the fridge to warm up, Dolores and Leo had sat down for another cup of coffee as they had been in no real hurry and while Leo might not have admitted it to himself as of then, he had cherished the time with her as well, so as if she had been his own mother. In fact, Cristiano’s mother had been more like Leo’s mother than his own mother had been in what could have been a decade. _“You are becoming like a third son to me, docinho.”_ He had known that the way she had treated him had been anything but the norm.

By the time that they had finished their coffees and had emerged from their respective bedrooms, ready to go with the pies and gifts packed, it had been just after eleven thirty and when Cristiano’s mother had opted for them to walk, Leo had worried his lip between his teeth. Still he had agreed, praying that there would not be any paparazzi hiding in order to get a few snapshots of Cristiano Ronaldo’s mother. Those photos certainly would have been hard to explain because Leo really had no excuse as for why he should have been with her. Leo had only remembered to check his phone as he had stood by while Dolores had locked the door. He had blushed a bit when he had realised that he had missed his boyfriend’s attempt to reach him.

 _Cristiano:_ [Thank you so so much bebê ❤️😘]

 _Cristiano:_ [I miss you...]

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed call]

 _Cristiano:_ [Call me back when you can, okay? Eu te amo! 😘]

༻✦༺

The Portuguese had suppressed a sigh when he had heaved his babbling son a bit higher onto his hip and had put the key into the lock of his front door with his free hand, Ser, James, Toni and the others happily chattering behind him, eager to be let into the house. He really had not wanted to be downer, as he had been glad that he had his friends with him, but it would have been a futile attempt or a lie if he would have stated that he would not have preferred to spend it with Leo instead. He had tried not to be bitter about it and had made sure that none of his disappointment had actually reached his boyfriend, because it definitely had not been his intention to make him feel guilty for something that had not been his fault. They had moved into the house and while Cristiano had tried his best to hide the longing for his boyfriend, but it, of course, had been in vain when it had come to Sergio.

His best friend had taken Junior from his arms, had out the toddler down onto the floor and had waited until Junior had been out of sight before he had turned towards him. “So,” the Spaniard had said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “I know that you don’t drink but I might have to force some Dos Mas into you.” He had titled his head as he had looked at Cristiano, “I haven’t seen you like this in a long time. Did something happen?”

Cristiano had pressed his lips together for a moment before he had sighed and had visibly deflated. “I just miss Leo,” he had answered rather reluctantly, so as if he had not actually wanted to voice it out. “Okay? I’m just missing him a lot, that’s all.”

Sergio had chuckled, though there had not been any mockery behind it, “Aw, little Cristiano is missing his lover boy.” He had barely managed to duck away when the Portuguese had tried to smack the back of his head, laughing even louder.

“Shut up, Ser.”

“Come on, you know that I know how you’re feeling about Me- _Leo_. It’s the same with Geri for me, it’s still hard sometimes especially when it’s cold and you habe no one to cuddle with. Well, I mean you have Junior and while the height difference between isn’t that noticable-”

Cristiano had cocked an eyebrow, “Stop it.”

His friend had merely rolled his eyes and had hugged him instead, with Cristiano almost immediately melting a bit into the touch. “As far as I can tell you and Leo are doing more than just alright, Cris. The first year that Geri and I did more than just hooking up he broke up with me like a dozen times. Can’t blame him for that, though.” Sergio had muttered the last part, apparently remembering the last big feud they had during last year’s Valentines Day.

“Uhm, thanks?” Cristiano had said, pulling back from the embrace.

“Any time brother,” Sergio had retorted, grinning from ear to ear as he moves behind Cristiano to begin and push him into the direction of the living room.

༻✦༺

Leo could have smacked, cursed and laughed at himself when he had really needed to draw in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself as Dolores and him had closed in on the driveway of Cristiano’s house. There had not been a single actually valid reason for him to be nervous, as he had known that Cristiano would not ever throw him out and break up with him because of the white lies he had told for the sake of a revenge birthday surprise. It would have been unfair for Leo to think that and he had not thought so, and yet he had clutched at the carry case of the pies harder than he would have needed to, then hoping that he had neither been under- not overdressed in the outfit which he had picked for the occasion. It had been nothing all too special, a wine red dress shirt and a pair of dark trousers that, according to what Cristiano had said the last time that Leo had worn them, had accentuated his backside perfectly.

He had let out a sigh, fumbling with the Rolex on his wrist and Dolores had turned her head to smile at him, ringing the door bell just as she had done so. That she had not mentioned his nervousness had saved him a great deal of embarrassment, but Leo had failed to keep himself from blushing when he had heard Cristiano’s voice from the other side of the door. The way it had seemed, he would probably never get over the blushing stage in the relationship, no matter how hard he would try. He had just been head over heals in love, even a year later.

“Sim meu amor, sua avó está aqui para brincar com você.”

The door had been opened rather zestfully and Leo had pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to take a step back when Cristiano had simply stared at him for a good few seconds. It had been Dolores who had eventually interrupted the moment, but Cristiano had not taken his eyes off Leo when he had been hugged by his mother. “Feliz aniversário meu amor,” Dolores had said, making sure that she had not hugged his son too tightly, as Cristiano had been holding. When she had spoken again, it had been so quietly that only Cristiano had heard her, “Você pode ver como ele está nervoso? É tão adorável.”

“Leo!” Junior’s squeal of his name had caused Leo to act and do something else than just stare back as his boyfriend, and he had cleared his throat as he had entered the house, closing the door behind him. “Leo, Leo!” With his face flushed a darker shade of red, Leo had taken off his shoes and had put the pie down onto the near side table so it had not been exposed to any risk of getting ruined, and he had just crouched down to get Cristiano’s present out of his bag when Junior had run into him and if it would not have been for his quick reflexes of leaning against the wall, he would have toppled over. “Hi Leo,” the toddler had giggled, clasping his arms around Leo’s neck and Leo had hugged him back, trying to ignore the twinge in his chest just as much as the sound of the other guests that had been coming from the living room.

“Hey niño,” he had whispered back, accompanying his words with a kiss into Junior’s unruly curls before combing his hand through them, lacking the courage to look up at Cristiano and Dolores. “I missed you a lot.”

“Play with me?”

“Sure, niño.” Junior had cooed and Leo had kept his arms wrapped around the toddler as he had stood up, two bright red blotches burning on his face. Cristiano had seemed less than amused a few moments ago, and he had contemplated just walking straight into the living room as that probably would have been much less awkward. His plan, however, had been cut down when his boyfriend had build himself up in his path as wanting to physically stop him from walking away. Dolores had taken her grandson from Leo; Leo had guessed that Cristiano had told her to do just that. “Cris-” had been all that he had been able to say before he had found himself crowded against the next wall, his breath robbed by a rather overwhelming kiss.

Cristiano had taken Leo’s face into his hands as he had kissed him, simply using his larger size to keep the smaller man securely locked in place. It had not been as if Leo had wanted to get away, anyway. “You have to stop that,” the Portuguese had whispered, breathing the words against Leo’s lips as he had caressed the smooth skin over Leo’s cheekbones. “Leo, you really have to stop.”

“I-I just wanted some revenge. You know, for what you did on _my_ birthda-” Leo had been cut off when Cristiano had kissed him once more, that time brining his hands to rest them on his waist. “Okay,” he had squealed once the kiss had ended, the blush on his face darkening in colour due to the way that his boyfriend had smirked down at him, “I won’t do it again.”

The older man had laughed and had wrapped one arm around Leo to keep him close at his side, gesturing into the direction of the living room, “I hope that you at least bought me a nice gift in return, bebê.” Still a bit embarrassed, Leo had nodded and had taken both Cristiano’s gift and the pie from the side table, his breath hitching, barely audibly but still, when his cheek had been kissed before Cristiano had stroked it a bit, apparently in an attempt to rub the blush away. It had only made it worse. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you blush like that,” the Portuguese had chuckled, moving his hand to shamelessly splay it over Leo’s ass just as they had entered the living room, where the rest of Cristiano’s guests had been sitting on the spacious couch, sipping at drinks and filling out the room with chattering and laughter.

The conversation had died down when Cristiano and Leo had come into sight, but before it could have become really awkward James had stood up from where he had been sitting on the couch to greet him, thus cutting the most of the tension to an end. Leo had been a bit surprised by the hug he had been pulled into by the Colombian and he had blushed a bit when Cristiano had squeezed his ass while he had been hugged, so as if the Portuguese had needed to prove a point and Leo’s heart had had somersaulted at the subtile act of possessiveness from his boyfriend that really would not have needed to be done in front of their taken friend.

He had then allowed Cristiano to pull him along and over to the couch, where Leo had sat down in the free space between Dolores and Cristiano and while he had not known whether it had been done on purpose, it had seemed that there had been as much distance as possible between him and Sergio, who had been sitting on the other end of the couch. Cristiano had kept a hand on his thigh, providing a comfortable weight which warmth had downright seeped through he fabric of Leo’s trousers, triggering goosebumps, as he had leaned over to pick up his bottle of non-alcoholic beer from the coffee table. “Leo,” Junior had suddenly whined, wriggling where he had been flipping through a picture book in his grandmother’s lap, “Avó, me want Leo!”

Leo had felt nearly every present pair of eyes on him when he had opened his arms in invitation and had allowed the toddler to climb and plop down into his lap instead. Cristiano’s and Leo’s relationship had no longer been that much of a great big secret for many of their friend and it would not take all that long until the majority of the people they had been friendly with would become aware, but only few of them had actually seen them act like the little family they had since become. “Hey little man,” Leo had whispered, combing a hand through Junior’s curls and pushing them away from his forehead to kiss it. “Aw, that’s a nice book you got there.”

The young boy had giggled and had pointed at the drawing of a dog with a chubby finger, “Doggy!”

“Yeah niño, that’s a dog and-”

“Bebê,” Cristiano had interrupted him, one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows cocked, “have something to drink first before you start to spoil him again.” Leo had opened his mouth to argue that he would have liked to help Dolores, who had just stood up after having announced that she would go and prepare the pies for serving, but he had snapped his mouth shut when Cristiano’s eyebrow had raised just a millimeter higher, as if he had dared him to say something.

“I made Wine Spritzer,” Sergio had stated rather suddenly, and considering how bad their last real encounter had turned out to be, Leo had known that the Spaniard had tried to take a big step into his direction and Leo had made a mental notice to mention it to Geri later on. He would have been surprised if his best friend had not been behind it all. “There’s one with cucumber and lemon, one with strawberry and rhubarb and we also have raspberries and mint.”

“I’ll take the one with the raspberries.” Cristiano had squeezed his thigh and had taken the glass that Sergio had filled for Leo, handing it to his boyfriend together with a quick kiss to Leo’s cheek, causing the younger man to blush. Leo had barely managed to look into Sergio’s direction, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

He had sipped at the cool drink, not even trying to join the conversation that had been going on and had revolved what had to be their new training plan, and had instead watched Junior “read” to himself.

“So,” Dolores had drawled out, earning a few “oh”s and “ah”s at the sight of the pie-stacked tablets she had been carrying. “Leo and I worked very hard on them so if you don’t like it, please be so kind and don’t say it around us.” Sergio, James, Toni and the others had laughed, taking Dolores’ words as a joke as much as they had taken them serious. Cristiano’s mother had handed out the plates, ignoring her son’s plea for her to sit down and let him do it, and Leo’s smile had widened when his plate, which Dolores had put down onto the coffee table in front of him, had loaded with a larger and a smaller piece of apple pie, topped off with two dollops of whipped cream.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, docinho. You helped, after all.”

“It’s my favourite,” Cristiano had muttered, rather to himself than to anyone in particular, and Leo had tried to watch his boyfriend as inconspicuously as he possibly could have done it, not wanting to make it awkward for him.

“I know,” he had said after a short pause, and the low “aw” sound that had been audible when he had pressed a quick kiss onto the corner of Cristiano’s mouth had definitely come from Sergio, but neither Leo nor Cristiano had been all that annoyed by it. Leo had taken one more sip from his drink before he had sat the glass down, keeping an arm around Junior so that the toddler had been in no risk of accidentally slipping off his lap. Junior had carelessly thrown his picture book to the ground to the ground when Leo had brought the plate with the pie into sight, and the toddler had been oblivious to the stern look he had received from his father in return, who had bend down to pick it up.

Leo had laughed, kissing the mess of Junior’s curls as he had turned him around so that the boy had been sitting with his back leaned against Leo’s chest. He had snorted when Junior had tried to grab the plate with two grabby hands, kissing the top of the toddler’s head once more, “Don’t use your hands, okay niño? We don’t have to ruin your Pai’s couch.”

“Da! Leo, me want!”

“So impatient...” Picking up the fork, Leo had put a small piece of pie onto it and had held it to Junior’s mouth, who had not needed to be told to open it. “Just like your Pai.” A smile had grown on his face when he had perceived the small humming sound that Junior had made around his mouthful of apple pie, apparently remembering that Leo had done the very same thing when he had been a bit younger. “Hmm,” Leo had made in return. His heart had soared a bit at the way that Junior had twisted around in his lap to smile a toothy smile up at him.

“Oh meu Deus, vocês dois são tão adoráveis,” Cristiano had said, moving impossibly closer to drape an arm over Leo’s shoulders.

The rest of the afternoon had gone by as unspectacular as Cristiano had wanted it to, giving him, Leo and his friends a chance to just sit and relax, something that all had not been averse to. They had wraps for lunch, and Leo had blushed to the brightest possible shade of red when Cristiano had done the same thing that he had pulled off during Junior’s birthday: the Portuguese had walked over to where Leo had been sat, had cupped his face and had kissed him rather passionately in front of everyone, reminding him to eat as well and not just feed Junior. The first few guests had begun to leave, once by once, in the early afternoon hours and by four, it had only been Cristiano, his little family, Dolores as well as Sergio and James that had been sitting together and then that they had been alone, they had felt a bit more comfortable talking about their love lives.

“Valentine’s can’t come soon enough,” Sergio had said, his words stuck between a groan and a laugh. The Spaniard had run both hands through his hair, messing it up intentionally and grinning in a way that had never failed to piss Leo off before they had become something like acquaintances.

“It wasn’t too bad last year,” Leo had retorted from where he had sat leaned against Cristiano, basking in the feeling of his boyfriend’s hand stroking through the short hair in the back of his neck in a repetitive motion.

James had snorted, “Didn’t you, Ney and Geri all end up wine drunk and _crying_ over Les Miserables?”

Cristiano had suppressed a snort on his own and had pulled Leo closer to nuzzle his nose into his hair, suddenly making Leo wish that they would have been all alone by themselves instead and he had needed to clear his throat before he had been able to speak without his voice breaking. “I said that it was good, didn’t I?”

“We should try... a triple date sometimes.” That idea had, of course, only could have come from one Sergio Ramos and while Leo had blushed a deep shade of red, wanting to negate, and he had let out a quiet groan when Cristiano and James had looked at each other and had nodded in unison. “I mean we’re best friends,” Sergio had went on, pointing at his teammates, “and you, Neymar and Geri are so...” In the end, Leo had ended up agreeing and the Blancos had decided to do the rest of the planning in their group chat so it would still be a surprise.

Sergio and James had stayed until five, and Leo had texted Geri almost as soon as they had been out of the front door, [What did you do that caused Ser to be so nice to me? 👀]

 _Gerard:_ [I told him that he has to accept my best friend or he’ll find himself dumped faster than he can count to three 😎]

He had typed a quick answer, [Well it worked 😂], before he had joined Dolores in the kitchen to help her with the dishes.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Mustering a small smile, Leo had shaken his head and had taken one of the dish towels from the hooks by the sink to dry the dishes that Cristiano’s mother had already rinsed. “You worry too much, docinho,” she had went on and even though it had not been the reason as for why he had been so nervous earlier that day, she had hit a sensitive spot of his nonetheless. “If any of his friends would say something bad about you Cristiano would throw them out. They all seem to like you well enough.”

“As long as we don’t talk about football, yes,” he had huffed a laugh, putting the dried plate onto the kitchen table.

“Ai sim, I bet they’re still sore about that last Clásico.”

Both him and Dolores had laughed when Cristiano had entered the kitchen, a babbling Junior toddling right behind him, “Mãe, is there any of the pie left?”

“In the fridge, meu amor.”

Leo had not even tried to stop himself from making a little sound of surprise, but his attention had been directed elsewhere when Junior, after having padded over to him, had wrapped his short arms around his left leg, hugging it close. “It’s so good,” Cristiano had said with a well-placed moan as he had taken a plate with the remaining pieces of pie out of the fridge, “it tastes just like it did when I was a kid, Mãe. Thank you so much for this.” Dolores had hummed when her son had kissed her cheek before he had moved over to the kitchen table, plopping down onto the next available chair with an exaggerated sigh.

“I really didn’t think that I’d see you eat more than the tiny piece you had earlier,” Leo had stated without even having been aware of the words actually forming in his mind and leaving his mouth and he had blushed profusely when Cristiano had cleared his throat from behind him, prompting Leo to turn around.

The Portuguese had grabbed the hem of his shirt and had pulled it up, revealing immaculate tanned skin stretched over his impressive six-pack and v-cut, “If anyone can afford to eat an extra piece of pie on their birthday it’s me, bebê. Or do you disagree?” Leo had clutched at the plate that he had been holding in the dish towel and had quickly turned back around to face the sink, not having missed the way Cristiano’s smile had turned into smirk due to his reaction.

He had resumed to help his boyfriend’s mother with the dishes, listening to Dolores chattering about a few rather unimportant matters and succesfully managing to stay focused on that for a few moments until Junior had begun to whine, tightening his hold on Leo’s leg. The boy had apparently been very unhappy that he had not been paid any attention to and when he had whined again, louder that time, Leo had put the dish towel down and had picked the unhappy toddler up to settle him on his hip, allowing Junior to rest his head on his shoulder. It had seemed to have been enough, so as if the boy had just enjoyed the way that Leo had been carrying him to his wishes again. Other than a few minutes ago, the fact that Cristiano had followed his every move had not bothered Leo nor had it caused him to flush from embarrassment and he had made sure to cock a hip as he had continued to talk with Dolores.

When he had eventually turned around once more, it had been his time to smirk because Cristiano’s eyes had stayed glued to the spot where his backside had been before they had trailed upwards to look him in the eyes. A teasing smile had grown on his face, but it had frozen and had slowly faltered due to the way that Leo’s breath had caught in his throat when he had watched how Cristiano had put a bite of cake into his mouth, all while never taking his eyes off Leo and for the second time that day Leo had wished that they would have been all alone considering the heat that had collected in the pit of his stomach. Cristiano and him had looked at each other for a good few long seconds, Leo with a blush creeping up into his face and Cristiano with a perfectly neutral expression.

It had not been much of a surprise that Dolores had noticed the tension between them and she had pressed her lips together, obviously trying to stifle the laugh that had threatened to escape her, and had dried her hands at the dish towel which Leo had used earlier before she had spoken up, “I have an idea.” Dolores’ words had made both Leo and Cristiano flinch and the younger man had cleared his throat, quickly shifting his attention to Junior instead, two bright red blotches showing how embarrassed he had been. “How about Junior stays with me for tonight? It wouldn’t hardly be the first time.”

Leo had the feeling that she had deliberately beaten around the bush when it had come to the real motivation behind her offer, but had kept quiet and had instead kissed one of Junior’s chubby cheeks. “Yeah,” Cristiano had said after a short pause, “I’ll come and pick him up if he’s too cranky or misses us too much.” 

_Us_. That Cristiano had taken him into consideration as well should not have touched Leo in the way that it had and he had hidden his smile by kissing Junior’s curls.

“That sounds just fine menino, if you’ll pack his bag-”

“Already on it!” Cristiano had downright jumped up from where he had been sitting and had dashed out of the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Leo had muttered, managing an almost smile at Dolores.

“Anytime, docinho. I know that you two see each other not as much as you’d like to and then this is the least thing I can do is to take Junior for the night. It’s not as if it’s a burden.”

Junior had giggled when Dolores had gently pinched his cheek, causing him to twist in Leo’s arms, “Da! Me want, Leo! Me want!”, the toddler had stated, having spotted the pie his father had left discarded on the kitchen table and Leo had hesitated a bit before he had eventually decided that the boy could handle a bit more of the baked treat. He had broken off a corner and had to the two-year-old, who had immediately begun to nibble at it.

“You’re acting like we didn’t just feed you an entire wrap an hour ago, niño.” Leo’s voice had been free of any real accusation, of course, and he had lovingly combed through Junior’s curls as he had watched the toddler eat away.

“Here are his things,” Cristiano had said as soon as he had come back in the kitchen, no hint of exertion on his voice after he had apparently jogged through his house. He had held up a diaper bag. “There’s his pyjamas, diapers, wet wipes, his pacifier, his teddy and such.” While he had been talking to his mother, his eyes had darted back and forth between her and Leo.

Dolores had hummed and had taken the bag from her son, shouldering it, “It’ll be just fine-”

“I’ll pick Leo’s things up right away,” Cristiano had interrupted, so as if it had been the most urgend thing and Leo’s heart had soared at the way that his boyfriend had apparently not been willing to leave the house for the rest of the evening. He had been a bit surprised when Cristiano had suddenly taken Junior out of his arms and had kissed his forehead.

“No,” the toddler had protested, whining and trying to twist out of his father’s arms while attempting to reach Leo with grabby hands, “no Pai, me want Leo!”

“Não chore, você o verá amanhã nino. Leo estará aqui, mas hoje à noite o Pai realmente quer passar algum tempo sozinho com ele. Avó estará com você, okay? Você verá Leo amanhã, meu amor. Shhh, está tudo bem.” Leo had expected Junior to run straight into a temper tantrum that would have been fitting for a two and a half year old, but to his surprise the toddler had merely pillowed his head on Cristiano’s shoulder and had looked at Leo with large, doe-like eyes. The boy had put two little fingers into his mouth as a replacement for his pacifier and had waved his free hand.

“Bye bye ‘Eo.”

“Bye bye niño,” Leo had returned, waving back at the toddler, and it had seemed as if Dolores and Cristiano had walked out of sight within a second after Dolores had hugged Leo goodbye. He had let out a breath he had not been aware of having held in when he had heard the sound of the front door falling shut, muttering something incoherent underneath his breath as he had put the pie back into the fridge and had made sure that the kitchen had been tidied up before he had moved to the living room and had plopped down onto the couch with a sigh. He had stared at the ceiling for a moment, only reached inside the front pocket of his trousers to pull his phone out after he had realised how stupid he had felt doing so.

Leo had no idea how long Cristiano would be gone and whether Junior would be willing to let his pai go at all, but he had been certain that it would not be for longer than Cristiano had needed to be gone and Leo had suddenly felt rather anxious rather than excited. His boyfriend had seemed a bit mad when he had opened the door to him and Dolores, or so Leo had thought as he had been sitting there, and he had been apprehensive that the evening might have been doomed to end in a proper argument instead of sex. Shaking his head, he had, to stop himself from breaking his mind over any possible turn of events that could have happen, unlocked his phone to listen to the voice message his best friend had send him.

“Leo,” Gerard’s voice had come from the speakers, and the embarassment that the Spaniard had only partially faked had made Leo grin, “ _please_ tell me that it’s not just Ser who’s currently planning a _triple date_ for Valentine’s? _Please_ tell me that James and Ronaldo are on it, too. I mean I’d be fine with you and Ney but... dammit, it’ll be so awkward.” Gerard had cleared his throat, “Anyway, I hope Ser didn’t do any more of the glaring he pulled off during Junior’s birthday party because he’ll find out that his key no longer fits if he did!”

He had laughed to himself and had recorded his answer, “Don’t worry, it went fine. There’s no reason for you to lock Sergio out of your house.” Leo had managed one more chuckle before his worry had come back with full force and had caused his laugh to die right there in his throat, and he had muttered the next part without considering what it could cause his best friend to think in that situation. “Ser... isn’t the problem here.” There had been an awkward moment of silence during which the voice message had simply continued to be recorded and it had taken Leo a few seconds before he had managed to snap back into the there and then, sending it rather absentmindedly. He had then scrolled through Instagram rather listlessly, making sure that he had not accidentally liked any of the posts that had been meant to congratulate his seecret boyfriend.

As it had turned out, Leo had not needed to wait all that long for Cristiano to come back. He could not have been sitting on the couch for longer than ten minutes until he had perceived heard how the front door had been unlocked, opened and closes and how a suitcase had been rolled over the marble floor. “Bebê, I’m home!” Pulling his bottom lip out from where he had been absendmindedly worrying it between his teeth and had stood up, walking to meet the other man halfway and when Cristiano had smiled at him, Leo had felt a bit choked up. He had loved him so much and he had been just as scared of accidentally ruining what they had.

His worry must had been visible on his face, because Cristiano had frowned and had let go of the suitcase to cup Leo’s face. “What is it?”, the Portuguese had asked him, brushing his thumb over the crease between the younger man’ eyebrows which had then faded and Leo had hurried to shake his head, not wanting to ruin his boyfriend’s birthday with his stupid, anxiety-induced thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” he had said, “just... something I read online.”

“No more phones for the rest of the night then.” Cristiano had stated rather than suggested it, and the smile than had turned on his face had quickly turned lascivious when he had let go of Leo’s face and had brought his hands to the younger man’s ass instead, splaying them over it before squeezing, pulling Leo flush against him. “I want to show you something,” he had purred right into Leo’s ear, squeezing his ass once more as he had done so and Leo had tried, but failed, to keep himself from letting out a small moan when his neck had been kissed. He had always felt so sensitive whenever he had been around Cristiano. The year had changed nothing about it at all. “It’s upstairs.” Cristiano’s smile had turned into a grin, “Come on, I really want you to see it now.”

Leo had nodded, and Cristiano had taken his suitcase before he had begun to go up the stairs, clearly expecting Leo to follow him which the younger man had immediately done, his curiosity growing with every step that he had taken. He had no idea what Cristiano possibly could have surprised him with - especially not on his birthday, when it had been supposed to be the other way around. Once they had reached the upper floor, Cristiano had reached for Leo’s hand and had made a beeline for the bedroom, causing the blush on his face to darken considerably. Leo had already guessed just what the surprise had been that Cristiano had wanted to show him. What his boyfriend had eventually showed him, however, had indeed been a surprise. The Portuguese had put the suitcase down by the side of the bed that had since established itself as Leo’s and Leo had made a small sound of confusion when he, as opposed to his expectation had not found himself being thrown onto the king-sized bed but walked over to the large window front of Cristiano’s bedroom, “Cris-”

“It’s funny, bebê,” Cristiano had laughed, having noticed the change in Leo’s behavious, “you’re usually only that impatient when you’re squirming under me.” Just like that Leo’s entire face had been burning and if it would not have been for Cristiano’s hold on his hand, he would have run off and hide how embarassed he had been. “I hope that you’ll like it,” his boyfriend had went on, pressing a button that had resulted in the curtains being drawn back automatically and Leo had felt Cristiano’s eyes lingering on him, apparently waiting for his reaction.

The gasp that Leo had let out once the curtains had been drawn back had not been a faked one. The balcony had been turned into a loggia, completely closed up with glass walls that would protect them from the elements without obscuring the view of the city of Madrid but what had really caught Leo’s attention had been the jacuzzi that had definitely not been there when he had stayed over during Cristmas. Cristiano had moved to stand behind him while he had taken in the changes that had been done in his absence, and had wrapped his arms around Leo to pull him closer, kissing the top of his head. “Do you like it, bebê?”

“I mean it’s your house-”

Given the little huff the action had been accompanied by Leo bad been able to hear Cristiano rolling his eyes, “I know that, but I still want to know.”

Leo had spend a moment longer taking in various changes and the fact that the loggia had been laid out with a carpet instead of the stone ground that had been there before, completed with fairy lights and candles and somehow Leo had felt as if it had been his birthday instead. “I think it’s perfect,” he had said after a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile.

Cristiano had hummed, clearly happy with his answer, “Do you want to try it out?”

“Now?”

“Yeah bebê, now. Junior’s staying with my mother so,” the older man had trailed off, his voice having dropped to a purr once again, “we have the evening for us.”

Leo had hummed in agreement. As if he ever would have dreamed about saying no to such an offer, “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Cristiano had removed his arms from around Leo and had walked over to the jacuzzi, crouching down in front of it to type away at the display that had made the luxurious pool come to life a few seconds later. Leo had not moved from the spot from where he had been watching and neither had he moved when his boyfriend had moved back to him, his heart somersaulting when Cristiano had pulled the hem of his dress shirt out from underneath the waistband of his trousers with an almost teasing slowness and had begun to open the buttons, starting with the bottom one and working his way upwards. “Let’s go then,” he had almost whispered, leaning down to catch Leo’s lip in a kiss just as he had popped the last of the buttons open and had driven his hands underneath the fabric to get it off, turning his attention to Leo’s trousers as soon as the shirt had landed on the floor.

Leo had whimpered a bit, tugging at the fabric of Cristiano’s shirt rather helplessly and the Portuguese had laughed into the kiss, stepping away to quickly pull his shirt off and Leo’s hands had been on him within a second, feeling the soft skin that had been pulled tight over immaculate muscles. “Missed you,” he had half whimpered, half moaned when the fly of his trousers had been opened and they had come to bunch around his knees, from where he had kicked them off.

“I missed you too bebê, you know that I always miss you when you’re not with me.”

It had not taken long until they had both been naked and they had stopped kissing each other enough for Cristiano to walk him over to the jacuzzi after the Portuguese had turned off the main light in bedroom so that the fairy lights and candles had come into play. Leo had squeezed the older man’s hand a bit; it would have been a lie if he would not have already known that Cristiano had definitely did all of this for him, too. The water had since reached just the right temperature when Leo had climbed into the jacuzzi after Cristiano had gotten in. The pool had been spacious enough to fit the both of them comfortably, though Leo had only spend a moment or so seated opposite of Cristiano before the other man had reached out, had taken his hand and had looked at him with playfully pleading eyes which had made it impossible for Leo to try and argue with him.

When Leo had straddled Cristiano’s lap, the air around them had become noticably loaded. The Portuguese had not taken his eyes off him for the split of a second, his gaze as loving as it had been every time that the two of them had been granted the chance to be in private. Neither of them had felt the need to say anything, as words had not really been necessary for them to understand what had been on each other’s mind and Leo had settled with his arms loosely draped over Cristiano’s shoulders while Cristiano had moved his hand over every available inch of skin, both aware, but very much comfortable, with their nakedness.

The tension that had slowly but steadily build up had snapped when Leo had gasped at the feeling of Cristiano’s hardening cock brushing against his own and Cristiano had wrapped an arm around Leo’s waist and had pulled him impossibly closer as he had begun to kiss him again. Leo had whimpered and had willingly opened his mouth for Cristiano’s tongue to claim it and Cristiano had kissed him just the way that had caused Leo’s mind to come to a halt and for the tension in his lower stomach to intensify: determining, dominating and with an almost teasingly slowness. “No more surprises,” Cristiano had growled in the short break between two kisses, reaching around with his free hand to grope at the younger man’s ass, squeezing hard enough to draw a gasp out of the younger man. “We’re even now, understood bebê?”

Leo had no longer been thinking properly, having since started to get lost in the arousal that had clouded his mind and he had dropped a hand into the space between them to grab Cristiano’s flagged cock by its base, making his boyfriend moan. “Whatever you want, Papi.”

“Fuck.” The water had splashed a bit when the Portuguese’s hips had snapped up as Leo had teased the tip of his cock with his thumb, “Leo, bebê.”

Leo’s moment of self-confidence had come to an end at the first hint of Cristiano’s fingers dipping between his cheeks and brushing over his puckered hole, making their intend clear, and he had dropped his head onto Cristiano’s shoulder. Since their meeting in the shower of Camp Nou after the Clásico Leo had known just how rough he could get, but he had not been especially worried about that as he had trusted him completely, and he had turned his face into the side of his boyfriend’s neck when the first finger had pushed into him, soon followed by a second one, “Cris-”

“I got you bebê, I got you.” He had kept his face hidden away while Cristiano had prepared him as good as it had only been possible and he had begun to circle his hips, eager to get on with it because he had already known that he would not last all that long. Slowly jerking his boyfriend off, Leo let out a surprised grasp when Cristiano’s free had suddenly come up to take a hold of his throat. Cristiano had not squeezed down, had merely used the hold to position Leo so that the had been able to kiss him and he had swallowed the moan that had escaped Leo when Cristiano had pulles his fingers out to replace them with the tip of his cock. “Eu te amo tanto,” he had whispered, keeping a close watch on Leo’s face as he had slid into him.

If it would not have been for Cristiano steadying him, Leo already would have collapsed against him, overwhelmed by the feeling like he had been every time that they had slept together. It had not mattered how many times they had done it, whenever he had felt his boyfriend inside of him Leo had wanted to burst into happy tears and thank God that they had stopped pretending to hate each other, “ _Oh my God-_ ”

Cristiano had chuckled, kissing him deeply. “That good, bebê?”, he had teased him, groping at Leo’s ass with his free hand to lift the smaller man in his lap before pulling him down and snapping his hips up at the same time, fucking into him as if Leo had weighted nothing. He had repeated that action while Leo had been left whimpering and moaning, writhing in Cristiano’s lap in an attempt to move, but it had begun to dawn in on him that his boyfriend had wanted to take the upper hand.

Leo had been more than fine with it. The older man had hummed in appreciation and had settled into a rhythm of taking him that had left them both breathless, moaning and holding onto each other out of fear that they could have gotten lost in the pleasure otherwise and the little whimpers of his name Leo had let out into the kiss had only spurred Cristiano on. He had fucked him nice and slow without any real hurry, ensuring that every single thrust had been directly angled against his prostate. It had been no real surprise that neither of them last as long as they would have liked to.

Cristiano’s hand had eventually disappeared from Leo’s hand and had paid attention to his somewhat neglected erection, eliciting another wave of moans from him and Leo had wrapped both arms around the older man’s neck as he had been hit by the waves of his orgasm. “Fuck, bebê,” the Portuguese had grunted, managing a couple more thrusts before he too had come, pulling Leo down flush against his pelvis who had barely registered it and had done so much as gasp when his boyfriend had pulled out. For a few moments, everything that could have been heard had been their laboured breathing and the sound of the jacuzzi, and Cristiano had been the first one to come out of the daze which their orgasm had put them in. He had brought a hand up to comb it through Leo’s hair, pressing a kiss against the younger man’s sweaty temple, his lips lingering there. “I love you,” Cristiano had whispered, “I’m so glad that you’re here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to ask you a question here: since I'm the type who prefers to read longer chapters/stories, I'm having a rough time deciding whether to upload long chapters like in one or to post them divided. What do you prefer? :-)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of the 16th, I officially moved to Vienna but getting things settled takes longer than expected so updates are not yet back to regular. There's some light angst in this one, but it'll be resolved by the end of the chapter! :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Monday, 08. February 2016.** _

Whenever he had thought about it later on, Leo had needed to admit that he had stopped feeling all that great the Sunday after Cristiano’s birthday. Having planned to stay in Madrid for the rest of the weekend in the hope of getting a chance to relax with his boyfriend and spend some valueable time with little Junior, Leo had booked the last available flight to Barcelona for Sunday evening. That it would inevitably result in him messing up his otherwise stable sleep schedule and end up with far too few hours of sleep he had been well aware of, but it had been a sacrifice which Leo had been more than willing to make in order to ensure that they all would have a nice weekend even though Cristiano and him had been due to see each other in just a week on Valentine’s Day, and Cristiano and Junior had both been absolutely happy that Leo had decided to stay with then.

After their love making, Leo and his boyfriend had lingered in the jacuzzi for a few more minutes until their legs had been able to carry them without collapsing and they had both actually giggled like love-struck teenagers as they, wet as they had been, had chased each other through to upper floor of Cristiano’s house in order to get to the bathroom. Neither of them had done much more than brushing their teeth and go through the rest of their nighttime routine before they had crawled into bed and Leo had fallen asleep sprawled out on top of Cristiano with the Portuguese whispering sweet words of love and adoration to him while languidly combing through his hair just in the way that Leo had always liked it.

The following morning, Saturday morning, had offered a rare chance for them to sleep in and they had just lingered around in bed, enjoying the togetherness, until Dolores had brought Junior over at around ten. Cristiano had been a bit grumpy when they had needed to get up, something that had made Leo laugh as he had always known the older man as somewhat of a morning lover, but he had eventually gotten out of bed when Dolores had texted both him and Leo in advance so that they both had enough time to _get decent_ before Junior would be back with them, so as if she had expected them to just jump each other whenever they had the chance to without any consideration whatsoever.

Leo had rushed downstairs to not let Cristiano’s mother wait for too long at the front door. He had invited her to stay for a cup of coffee after Dolores had handed Junior over to him, but she had merely thanked him and had stated that she would be meeting with a few friends of hers in an hour and so their little family had been left alone. Junior had been babbling almost ecstatically from the very second on that Leo had opened the door to him and his avó and Leo had blatantly ignored Cristiano’s comment about how the two-year-old had been very much able to walk on his own and had continued to balance Junior on his hip as he had whipped a quick breakfast, which had rather been an early lunch, together.

He had not even tried to deny that he had been basking in the way that Cristiano had been watching him from where he had been sitting at the kitchen table and sipping at the day’s first portein shake, it had been such a domestic scene and Leo had known better than to not cherish it. Leo had kept Junior in his lap while they had eaten breakfast together; the toddler had protested with a rather loud whine when Leo had tried to put him into his high chair and even Cristiano’s gentle scolding had not brought any chance to the boy’s behaviour but given the fact that neither Cristiano nor him had really tried to force that change into Junior’s mind, Leo had known that they had shared the same thought: Junior had missed him and had since understood that Leo had not been there to stay with them forever.

Breakfast had gone by rather peacefully, at least until two-year-old Junior had managed to ruin his Real Madrid jersey after no more than five minutes. In a moment during which Leo had been too distracted by Cristiano looking at him in a way that had told him just how much he had loved, and Junior had been unsupervised, the toddler had managed to snatch Leo’s strawberry jam toast and had smeared a good half of the jam onto the jersey he had been wearing before the toast had landed on the floor.

“Well,” Leo had laughed as his attention had been diverted back to the boy in his lap, using a napkin to wipe as much of the jam away as it had only been possible, “your Pai should be glad that I didn’t choose the one with raspberries because then your pretty little jersey would’ve been ruined for good now, niño.”

The hint of sarcasm in his voice had made it clear that he really would not have been all too sorry if that would have happened, as he himself had bought Junior quite the variety of Barça merch and had, but it had not only been Cristiano who had been surprised and partially shocked when Junor had clapped his hands, which had been sticky with jawn, together and had squealed, “Rui-ed! Yes, rui-ed! Rui-ed, Pai!”

“Eu não acredito nisso,” Cristiano had said, and the look of shock on his face had been a honest one as he had watched how his boyfriend and his little son had apparently been amused by the prospect of Junior’s Real jersey being ruined. “Junior, por que você está dizendo isso? Não é certo!”

Leo had rolled his eyes, he might not have understood what Cristiano had said to the boy but Leo had been familiar enough with the tone of his voice to know whether the Portuguese had been mad, and he had hugged Junior a bit closer, kissing the top of the toddler’s head, “Don’t listen to your Pai, we’ll just put you into one of mine instead.” 

Cristiano had cocked an eyebrow, but had let it go by uncommented, so as if he had known that trying to argue with Leo would have been in vain, and had instead resumed to watch how the younger man had tried to feed Junior a few more bite-sized pieces of toast without any more of them landing on Junior’s shirt or the kitchen floor. After breakfast had been over with, Cristiano had kissed both Junior’s and Leo’s forehead and had announced that he would retreat to the home gym for a good while.

Even though Leo had been comfortable with not working out for the duration, he had not even thought about trying to convince his boyfriend of being able to do the soon, as he had been well aware of the fact that, for the older man, working out had been a way of calming himself mentally as much as it had been meant to keep his physical condition at nothing less than peak perfection. So Leo had let Cristiano leave and had done the dishes by himself, listening to Junior, who had been babbling where he had been sitting on the floor and flipping through the picture book Cristiano had gotten out of the diaper bag before he had taken it upstairs with him, as he had done so.

Once he had been done and the kitchen had looked respectable enough, Leo had taken the boy into his arms and had settled him onto his hip again. As opposed to Cristiano’s birthday the weather had been too bad that it possibly could have allowed them a chance to play outside in the garden, and so Leo had opted to play with Junior in his room, which had been spacious enough for them to play ball without breaking anything. Before he had allowed the toddler to run off and pick a toy, however, Leo had tickled Junior’s side, eliciting a row of happy squeals, and had carried him over to the changing table instead, holding him in place for a moment when Junior had tried to wriggle away, still giggling like the happy boy he had been.

“I can’t have you running around like this,” Leo had said with a hushed voice, tickling the two-year-old’s stomach with the hand that he had moved underneath the dirtied Real Madrid jersey and laughing himself at the way that Junior’s laughing had intensified. “My God, you’re so _adorable_ niño!” Kissing one of the boy’s chubby cheeks, he had done a quick job with guiding Junior’s arms through the sleeves of the jersey, pulling it off and dumping it into the small laundry basked that had stood beside the changing table with a playful sound of disgust, making Junior giggle a bit harder.

“You don’t like that one, do you?” Junior had shaken his head, slipping two of his short fingers into his mouth and Leo had made a mental note to get his pacifier after that, “No you don’t like it, that’s what I thought. You’re such a good boy, niño. Te quiero tanto.” His smile had widened when he had seen how Junior had twisted around and had made grabby hands at his Barça teddy, though he had quickly grabbed the boy’s wrists after having realised that his hands had still been sticky from the strawberry jam. “I know, I know,” Leo had tried to hush the boy’s whimpers of protest as he had reached for the packet with the wet wipes with one hand, quickly cleaning Junior’s hands of any remainder of the jam before he could have ruined his teddy’s fur. Leo definitely had not wanted to be the one who would have to take the two-year-old’s favourite stuffed animal away as Junior had already whined and whimpered when Leo had needed to hinder him from reaching it. 

The toddler’s whimpering had stopped the very second that his hands had been released again, and Leo had shaken his head when Junior had turned from tears to grinning as if it had been nothing. Leo had eventually ended up searching through two drawers of the changing table until he had found one of the many training suits he had bought. “You’re happy with your teddy, aren’t you?” He had kissed Junior’s cheek before he had unfolded the small, dark blue Barça hoodie and had quickly pulled it over Junior’s head, chuckling at the way that his face had scrunched up and sure that he had never seen a more adorable thing than Cristiano’s son dressed in a minature hoodie with his name and number on the back, “I’ll just lie you down for a moment, okay?” 

Junior had blown raspberries into the air when Leo had carefully moved him so that he had been lying on his back, enabling Leo to pull his tights off and check whether he had required a diaper change, latter which had not been the case. The Argentine had grinned to himself as he had put Junior into the fitting pair of sweatpants, “There you go, niño. So handsome!”

“Yes yes yes,” Junior had giggled, cuddling his teddy close and Leo had kissed his cheek as he had gathered him into his arms to lift him off the changing table. The two-year-old had toddled off to the closed door as soon as his little feet had come into contact with the carpet, trying to open it, “Pai? Pai!”

Leo’s smile had faded a bit when he had watched how Junior had desperately tried to reach the door handle and he had walked over to him, gently taking his hand. “Pai is busy right now, niño,” he had said with a tone that had been just as gentle as his touches had been, crouching down to be at an eye level with Junior, stroking the boy’s cheeks when he had spotted the tears in his eyes. While the two-year-old had been happy enough with Leo, it had seemed that he had wanted to be with his father after having been apart for the night.

“Leo, me want Pai!”

“Oh I know, niño, I know.” Standing up again, Leo had tugged Junior away from the door, “Why don’t you go and pick something for us to play with, hm?” Cristiano’s son had nodded, had slipped two fingers into his mouth again and had toddled over to one of his toy boxes instead. While Junior had been busy finding a toy, Leo had taken the diaper bag that Cristiano had packed for his son’s stay at Dolores’ house, and he had been lucky enough to find the pacifier right away. After having made sure that it had been clean, Leo had held it out for the two-year-old to take it, “Here you go, niño.”

The toddler, however, had not interrupted his rummaging until he had found what he had apparently been looking for, and Leo had laughed at the sight of the Barça football that Junior had held in his arms. Cristiano’s son had squealed when he had spotted his pacifier in Leo’s hand and had immediately reached out for it, putting it into his mouth with a plop. “You’re just like your Pai, aren’t you?” Leo had said with a chuckle, ruffling through Junior’s curls once the boy had been close enough for him to do so. “Want to play with your ball?”

“Yesh!”

“Okay then, niño.”

So Leo and Junior had ended up playing football in the boy’s room. It had been nothing too spectacular really, as kicking the small ball back and forth had been pretty much the only thing that one could have done with a two-year-old, but Leo had added a simple trick every then and there just because they had never failed to make the toddler giggle and clap his small hands together in amusement. While he had dealt with a few kids in his life, none of them had been so easily entertained and amused like Junior and the fact that _Cristiano’s son_ had apparently required so little to be perfectly happy had been incredibly amusing to Leo - though if he would have thought about it, he would have realised that Cristiano too had always been happy with whatever attention Leo had paid to him.

For how long they had played Leo had not known, but it must had been quite a while as the rain outside had stopped splattering against the windows and Junior’s eyelids had appeared to have become more and more heavy, and Leo had not bothered to try and hide his smile when the boy had missed the kick that had been aimed at the ball because he had been rubbing at his eyes. Picking up the ball once Junior had managed to kick it back at him, Leo had thrown it into the box out of which the boy had taken it and had moved to get Junior into his arms as quickly as he could have done it without startling him. “Aw niño,” he had said with a low voice, so as if any louder tone of voice could have scared the young boy, and had pressed a kiss onto the toddler’s cheek, smiling when Junior had fully leaned against him and had wrapped his short arms around his neck, keeping them there while Leo had carried him over to the changing table for the second time that day. Albeit then, Junior had been inconsolable and had whined, clearly unhappy and in need to be put down for his nap.

“I know cariño, I know,” Leo had whispered, leaning down to kiss Junior’s cheek again as he had quickly pulled the boy’s sweatpants off in order to give him a quick diaper change, during which the two-year-old had continued his whining despite Leo’s best attempt to calm him down. Once the diaper change had been over with and Junior had been dressed in his Barça sweatpants again, Leo had settled him on his hip, had picked up Junior’s teddy up and had handed it to the toddler as he had moved to walk out of the nursery. Junior had calmed significantly once he had his favourite stuffed animal in his arms again, and Leo had rewarded the fact that he had stopped whimpering by kissing his messy curls and whispering a row of praises to him.

The boy’s head had already come to rest on Leo’s shoulder and while Leo had hoped that he would not fall asleep before they would be downstairs, he had lacked the heart to force him to stay awake. Upon having opened the door of Juniors’s nursery and having walked to the stairs, Leo had made out the muffled sound of music coming from the other end of the corridor, which had told him that Cristiano had still been working out. It had not been that much of a surprise, he had known that a _quick workout_ could easily take his boyfriend two hours to complete, and so Leo had simply hurried downstairs to give Junior his sippy cup.

He had casually leaned against the counter, combing a hand through the boy’s curls as he had waited for Junior to finish drinking and taking the sippy cup from him once he had been done. The toddler had let out a small mewling sound when his head had tipped over and onto Leo’s shoulder again. “Are you hungry?”, Leo had asked him, running a soothing hand up and down Junior’s back. “Wanna have a little snack, niño?” At the boy’s nod, he had thought about what he could possible feed a two-year-old that would not be too heavy for his pre-nap stomach. Leo had eventually mashed a banana up and had mixed it together with two spoonfuls of the applesauce he had found in the fridge, putting Junior down onto the countertop to allow the boy to eat the small portion up.

He had smiled as he had watched how Junior had already fallen halfway asleep while he had fed him; Leo had made sure that he had not accidentally jostled the boy as he had carried him to the living room. Cristiano’s son had been fast asleep by the time that Leo had laid him down onto the couch, thankfully not waking up when he had been covered with a nearby fluffly blanket and his pacifier had been slipped past his slightly parted lips. “Sweet dreams,” Leo had whispered, kissing Junior’s forehead, and he had spend a few more moments watching the sleeping toddler before he had stood up from the couch.

Leo had eventually lay down on the couch beside Junior after he had picked up the few toys that had been scattered throughout the living room and had put them into the toy boxes that had stood beside the coffee table. As Cristiano and him had slept in late that day he had not actually been tired, but watching Junior sleeping sprawled out on his back and listening to the faint, adorable sounds that the toddler had let out in his sleep had downright lured Leo into lying down with him, eventually succeeding at making Leo’s eyelids feel more and more heavy and the last thing that the Argentine had done before he had drifted off into a light sleep had been laying a protective arm over Junior to prevent the toddler from accidentally falling off the couch.

So it had happened that Leo and Junior had been asleep side by side when Cristiano had come jogging down the stairs, a towel hanging around his neck and his naked upper body glistering with sweat that had been the result of his workout. “Bebê?” the Portuguese had called out, wiping at his face with the towel. He had frowned when he had not gotten an answer in return, “Leo?”, and had made a small sound of confusion since he had no luck finding his boyfriend and his young son upstairs and he had not really believed that Leo had taken Junior to the garden to play outside on such a cold February day. 

After having make a quick detour to get himself a new bottle of water out of the fridge, Cristiano had set out to find the two and he had just begun to wonder about the fact that the house had been so unusually quiet for a time that Junior had still been out and about and causing trouble when he had moved into the living room. He had stood almost frozen to the spot, as if making a single movement could have ruined the moment and he had not taken his eyes off the scene in front of him when he had pulled his phone out from the pocket of his sweatpants to take a photo. Cristiano could not have cared less about someone thinking of it as kitschy and overly emotional because he had known better than to not capture even the smallest of happy moments - he had still wished that he would have taken more photos of his father when he had the chance to.

Smiling to himself, Cristiano had photographed his sleeping boyfriend and toddler son, instantly setting the photo as his new wallpaper. Good God, how he had loved them both with his entire heart. Deciding to let Leo and Junior have their nap, the Portuguese had quietly made his way upstairs and into the bathroom. The rest of the Saturday had passed by just as peacefully; after Junior had woken up from his nap and had woken Leo up in the same go, the two of them had spend a few more minutes just cuddling on the couch with Leo running gentle circles on the boy’s back and Junior nestled against Leo chest until Cristiano had come back downstairs. Cristiano and Leo had cooked lunch together, the small act of domesticity making both of their hearts soar.

Leo had snorted when Junior had ended up spitting the spoonful of mashed kale and potatoes back out and onto the table of his high chair. “I told you that he won’t like it,” the younger man had chirped, he had, of course, known that Cristiano had only wanted to do the possible best for his son, but he had really needed to understand that kids will not ever eat like one wants them to.

“Nonono!” Junior had banged his small hands onto the plastic table, shaking his head in a way that had send his curls bouncing. “Leo, me no want! Pai, no want! Nonono!” Cristiano had visibly deflated when he had looked at his toddler son, and Leo had suppressed a laugh as he had stood up to get Junior a new plate. It also had been no surprise that Junior had really dug into the mashed potatoes and bite-sized pieces of chicken which Leo had put onto a fresh plate for him, and Leo had pressed a quick kiss into Cristiano’s cheek before he had plopped back down onto his chair. The toddler had squealed and had grinned as he had pierced a piece of chicken up with his fork to put it into his mouth, humming around it, “ _Hmmm!_ ”

“Oh meus Deus, o que eu fiz para merecer isso...” Cristiano had muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had felt the harbinger of a migraine before he had turned his attention back towards his own lunch, though he had failed to hide the fact that the corners of his mouth had twitched.

Leo had winked at Junior. “Let’s just agree on no more kale for him, okay?” he had laughed, reaching out to pinch the toddler’s chubby cheek, and his smile had widened when his boyfriend had chuckled and had shaken his head.

“That can be arranged, bebê. At least until he’s a bit older.”

That evening, Leo and Cristiano had repeated their lovemaking in the jacuzzi after Junior had been fast asleep and the two had been sure that they would not be disturbed. Other than they had done it on Cristiano’s birthday, however, Leo had only climbed into his boyfriend’s lap after they had spend a few minutes just relaxing in the warm water instead of going straight to for it. Their movements had been slow and passionate and they had muffled each other’s moans with a kiss when they had come a couple of seconds apart, Cristiano’s fingers digging into Leo’s trembling thighs in an attempt to ground the both of them. “This might’ve been the best idea I ever had,” the Portuguese had whispered right into Leo’s ear as he had spend a good while just roaming his hands over his boyfriend’s naked body and when Leo had pulled back to look at him, he had been met with a grin of the sort that had caused his stomach to flip.

Cristiano had looked so good, with a wide grin on his faintly flushed face and eyes that could not have been any more lively than they had been right then and Leo’s heart had somersaulted along with his stomach. Given the way that the older man’s grin had grown impossibly wider, the thoughts that had been flashing across Leo’s mind must had been visible on his face. Leo had rolled his eyes, wanting to drop his forehead onto Cristiano’s shoulder again, but his boyfriend had hindered him from doing so by reaching out and cupping a hand against Leo’s face, thus gently forcing him to not go into hiding. He had gasped, his body shuddering in a wave of post-orgasm bliss, at the way that Cristiano’s thumb had brushed over his slightly swollen bottom lip once, twice, three times.

“Eu te amo muito, bebê,” his boyfriend had purred, his voice vibrating due to the baritone level it had dropped to and Leo had answered by turning his head and kissing the palm of Cristiano’s hand.

༻✦༺

Since their lovemaking had been rather gentle and slow-paced that it had not resulted in any real physical exertion for either of them, Leo had been honestly confused by the ache that had made his limps feel unusually heavy when he had woken up on Sunday morning. Cristiano had still deep asleep beside him, one of his tanned arms draped over Leo’s back as a remnant of the position they had fallen asleep in, and the younger man had quite the hard time keeping himself from groaning out loud as he had moved, because him moving his limps had somehow resulted in the pain to pool in the area of his lower back instead - but since backache had been something that had often accompanied the colds he had, Leo had brushed it off. Or he had tried to do that, at least.

Making sure that he would not accidentally wake his boyfriend up, Leo had removed Cristiano’s arms from around him and had climbed out of bed, putting on a hoodie and a pair of boxer shorts before quietly closing the door behind him. A quick look at the clock that had stood on the nightstand had told him that it had barely been past seven and that he would have a good twenty minutes to himself before Junior would wake up and require attention, and while there had been no sounds indicating that Cristiano’s son had woken up earlier, Leo had still peaked into the boy’s nursery to make sure. Upon having seen that Junior had indeed been still asleep in his crib with his back turned towards the door, Leo had opened the nursery’s door a bit wider so that there had not been a chance of him missing the toddler’s calls before he had moved downstairs, pulling the sleeves of his oversized CR7 hoodie over his hands.

Other than the ache which had made itself known in his back, he had felt fine and no other symptoms of an approaching cold, so he had hopes that he would not actually be forced to skip training on Monday. Leo had wrinkled his nose when he had looked out of the window and had seen that weather had been just as bad as it had been the day before, the drizzle had even been uncomfortable to watch from inside. He had tried to cause as little noises as he could have done it as he had rummaged through the drawers and cupboards to make himself a cup of tea instead of the coffee he had usually preferred in the morning, as if it could have given his immune system a little support so that he would be 100% fit for gym and team training and he had absentmindedly stared out of the window while he had waited for the kettle to finish heating up the water.

Hiding his yawn behind his hand, he had poured the water into the cup he had taken out for himself. Leo had just filled the cup when he had perceived the sound of soft cries coming from upstairs and he had immediately left his brewing tea standing on the countertop to head to Junior’s nursery after it had become obvious that Cristiano had not woken up to tend to his son. “Hey niño,” he had whispered, slowly walking into the dark nursery to not scare the two-year-old and he had pulled up the blinds before he had moved over to the crib.

Junior had been whimpering where he had been sitting in his crib, one hand holding onto the leg of his teddy bear while the other had been closed around a bar of the crib. The smile on Leo’s face, which had grown when he had spotted Cristiano’s son, had faltered slightly when he had bend down to pick Junior up, because that motion had only caused the pain in the small of his back to flare up. The toddler’s whimpering had continued for a short moment, but had stopped once Leo had settled him onto his hip and had rubbed at his eyes while Leo had combed through his disheveled curls, “Did you sleep well, cariño?”

As expected, the boy had let out a soft mewling sound and Leo had not even considered putting him down as he had walked back downstairs, trying to ignore the twinge in his back. Maybe, so he had thought, he had simply slept in a wrong position? Leo had been sitting at the kitchen table and had feeding Junior, who had been babbling in his high chair, his morning porridge and few pieces of fruits while drinking his second cup of tea when Cristiano had joined them.

“Good morning you two,” the Portuguese had said, his voice rough from sleep and he had kissed the top of Junior’s head before he had done the same thing to Leo and had sat down on the free chair on Leo’s left, watching how his boyfriend had been feeding his young son. “Você está se divertindo com Leo, meu amor?”, Cristiano had asked Junior, and the boy had answered by giggling and slamming his little hands onto the table of his high chair. It had nearly resulted in the bowl of porridge to go flying and land on the floor, something that Leo had only prevented by grabbing it out of reflex.

“Niño,” he had said with a gentle, albeit scolding tone and an unamused look on his face which had failed to impress either Cristiano or Cristiano’s son, who had both been laughing as if it had been the most amusing thing.

“Aw bebê,” Cristiano had retorted, using the tone of voice that had usually been reserved for Junior, and Leo had flinched and had failed to supress a whimper when one of Cristiano’s hands had come to rest in the small of his back. “Leo? Are you-”

“I’m okay,” Leo had hurried to say after having cleared his throat, resuming to feed Junior his breakfast. “It’s just a backache, nothing too bad.”

He had felt the older man’s eyes on him and had managed not to flinch when Cristiano had moved his right hand underneath the hem of his hoodie and had splayed it out in the small of his back, the warmth of the comfortable weight managing to ease the pain for a few seconds. “You’re getting old, bebê.” Leo had reached around with his free arm to try and get a hit at his boyfriend, but it had only resulted in him wincing at the twinge in his back. Cristiano had chuckled and had leaned over to kiss his cheek, pulling his hand back and standing up from the chair he had been sitting in at the same time, “Do you want a smoothie too?”

“No, thank you. Junior here insisted that I’d have some of his porridge.”

“Aquele é meu filho.”

Cristiano had postponed his daily workout to when Leo would be on his flight back to Barcelona, which had allowed the three of them to spend a good amount of quality family time together. It had not been something that Leo had been used to before he had gotten together with Cristiano and he had cherished it all the more then, so as if he had been able to make up for the years that he had been more or less forced to live without it, regardless of whether Antonella had been by his side or not.

They had relaxed on the couch for a bit to watch one of those animated shows which had been made for very young kids after breakfast, and Junior had happily babbled where he had been sitting next to his father while Leo bad been lying stretched out on his stomach with his head pillowed in Cristiano’s lap and a hot-water bottle resting on the aching spot of his back. He had quite the hard time to keep his eyes open, a nap suddenly seeming rather tempting then that the warm of the hot-water bottle had seeped into, what he had thought, sore muscles and Cristiano’s fingers stroking through his hair in an ever-repeating motion.

“Leo!” Junior had squealed, pointing a chubby finger at the TV and Cristiano had snorted a laugh above Leo at the way that he had almost startled awake, “Doggy! Pai, cão!”

“Você é um garoto tão inteligente,” Cristiano had said, his voice having dropped to a softer tone as he had reached out to ruffle his son’s curls with the hand that had not been buried in Leo’s hair.

Leo had twisted a bit to get a look at the two-year-old, “Yeah niño, that’s a dog. Good job!” Junior had giggled and had clapped his hands together before he had turned his attention back towards the TV, sucking on his pacifier and hugging his Barça teddy close.

Just like it had been every time, leaving Cristiano and Junior had been the last thing that Leo had wanted to do and as always, he had no other chance than to pack his suitcase and prepare for his journey back to Barcelona. Impossible as it had been, to Leo it had seemed as if he had been forced to leave them so many more times than he had actually gotten around to see them and he would have given a lot to just stay with them, no matter how futile his constant wishing had been. He had told himself that his chest had absolutely not felt constricted as he had packed the last few of his things into his suitcase, had closed it and had stood from his crouching position with a groan. Leo had rolled his eyes at the teasing snort that had come from Cristiano; even if he would have wanted to, he had not been able to truly stay mad at the Portuguese ever since they had stopped pretending to hate each other.

“Aw bebê,” Cristiano had said once he had moved to stand behind Leo, wrapping his arms around the smaller man to pull him flush against him and kiss his cheek. Leo had hummed, though it had come out as more of a whine which had prompted Cristiano to tighten the embrace he had him in. He really had not wanted to leave Madrid and his little family. “I don’t want you to leave,” Cristiano had muttered, speaking what had been so prominent on Leo’s mind. The Portuguese had done nothing more than holding him for a moment. “I know that you have to, of course, but it would be better if you wouldn’t have to, you know.” He had nuzzled his face into the crook of Leo’s neck, placing a soft kiss there, and when he had spoken again, his voice had dropped to a whisper. “It would mean that I could sleep a bit longer while you get up and look after Junior...”

Leo had laughed out loud, which had apparently been just what Cristiano had aimed for as he had joined him with a chuckle, and he had turned around in his boyfriend’s arms to look up at him, “Then don’t come crying to me if he turns out to be a Blaugrana, Cristiano.”

“Não se preocupe bebê, não vou. Porque não há como meu filho acabar como Culé, eu posso te prometer isso.”

Rolling his eyes yet again, that time at the way that Cristiano had spoken Portuguese to him as if he had been able to understand him perfectly, Leo had leaned back when his boyfriend had tried to kiss him. He had laughed at the look of confusion and disappointment that had flashed over Cristiano’s face when his lips had come in touch with nothing other than air, “Don’t say things like that.”

The Portuguese had cocked one of his eyebrows, a gesture that had never failed to make Leo’s breatch hitch because he had simply looked too good, and Cristiano looking like that had, in the past, made him do a lot of things. Making sure that he had not applied too much pressure to the small of Leo’s back, Cristiano had pulled him closer against him and had moved his hands to cup the younger man’s ass. Cristiano’s smile had widened into a grin, “You didn’t even understand what I said, bebê.”

“I understood enough,” Leo had retorted, though that time staying put when his boyfriend had leaned down to kiss him, a small gasp escaping him when Cristiano had hummed into the kiss. If he would not have needed to leave within the next ten minutes in order to catch his flight, he would have loved for the kiss to last forever. “Cris, I have to-”, he had tried to say after the kiss had ended. Cristiano, however, had not allowed him to finish speaking and had instead simply kissed him again with renewed vigour, his tongue exploring Leo’s mouth as if it had not done it a hundred, a thousand times before. Leo’s heart had screamed at him not to do it, but he had eventually loosened his arms from around Cristiano’s waist and had wriggled out of his boyfriend’s hold, swallowing rather hard, “I’ll just... go and say goodbye to Junior, okay?”

Cristiano’s gaze had softened and he had nodded, taking Leo’s rucksack and suitcase, “I’ll wait downstairs.”

Leo had given a small nod in return before he had left the bedroom and had moved down the corridor, slowing down and eventually rising onto the tips of his toes as he had reached Junior’s nursery. It had been past the toddler’s bedtime. Cristiano and Leo had brought him to bed a bit over an hour ago, and Leo had been able to make out the sleeping form of the boy in his crib.

The classical music that Cristiano had put on earlier had still been running - Leo had known that Junior had always slept better if there had been Mozart softly playing in the background, and he had felt his heart easily doubling in size at the sight of Junior. It would have been a blatant lie if he would have said that he had not since begun to love him much like he would have loved a child of his own, and it had been just that thought that had crossed his mind as he had come to stand by the crib and had watched the rise and fall of Junior’s chest in the dim shine of the night light. He had smiled, slowly bending down to reach inside the crib and brush a curl away from the toddler’s forehead, skimming his finger over the boy’s chubby cheek before he had pulled his hand back and had tip-toed back out of the nursery, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Leo had known that he would see him in a week, but a week had suddenly once more seemed much too long, as he simply had not wanted to wait in the first place. Somehow, he had failed to look at Cristiano as he had come walking down the stairs and had crossed the vestibule. James had offered to drive him to the airport, if Junior would not have been asleep, Cristiano would have taken it onto himself to drive him.

“Do you have everything, bebê? Phone, wallet?” Leo had mustered a small smile and had nodded, taking his rucksack that Cristiano had held out for him. His boyfriend had allowed him to shoulder his rucksack before he had taken his face into his hands, brushing his thumbs over Leo’s cheekbones, “If you’d forget your passport you’d have to stay here for the night...” Leo’s eyes had fluttered close when he had been kissed, deep but gentle at the same time.

“I wish it would be so easy.”

“I know bebê, I know. It’ll be that easy someday.” Cristiano had looked at him for a moment longer, only then pulling him into a hug that had lasted until they had heard a car pulling up into the driveway, “Text me when you’re home, okay? Eu já estou sentindo sua falta.”

“I will,” Leo had said, stepping back to crouch down and put on his shoes while Cristiano had opened the front door, both for Leo to leave and to give a quick wave into James’ direction, and he had brushed his hand down the curve of Leo’s back in a silent goodbye as Leo had walked past him.

The flight to Barcelona had gone by without any incidents or delays and while Leo had not been all that comfortable sitting down, not even in the first class seats, he had managed to blend it out by watching a few episodes of a series he had started a while ago. It had, however, only worked until he had been due to get up once the plane had landed. The sharp stab of pain which had shot through his body when he had stood up had left him gasping and scrambling for purchase at his seat, staying in a sitting position for such an extended amount of time surely had done his sore no good and he had made a mental note to text his physiotherapist before he would attend training the next day. Had he really torn a muscle by just sleeping in a wrong position? That the pain had not resembled a muscle ache in the slightest, Leo would only realise later on.

With almost embarrassing slowness he had made his way off the plane and to the luggage carousel to collect his, only so suppressing a yelp when he had slid into the backseat of the taxi he had waved down. _Training will surely be interesting_ , he had thought, not even wanting to imagine how running and, God beware, squatting with such a sore back would turn out to be.

 _Cristiano_ : [How’s my favourite old man? 😉]

Leo had stiffled a laugh at the text that Cristiano had send him, shaking his head. It surely would have been interested to see how his boyfriend would have reacted if Leo would have decided to tease him like that - he had known that Cristiano had meant no harm by it, of course. [Could ask you the same ;-) I’ll be home in a few minutes.]

 _Cristiano_ : [That’s good bebê ❤️]

 _Cristiano_ : [You should get it checked out if it’s not better by tomorrow, okay? Just to make sure that there’s nothing going on.]

[Why, so that you’ll have better chances in April? :-D]

 _Cristiano_ : [😐]

 _Cristiano_ : [I’m being serious, Leo. Please.]

[I’ll let you know if there’s something wrong! ☺️]

 _Cristiano_ : [Thank you ❤️😘]

Once he had been home, Leo could not have possibly been bothered with unpacking his suitcase and load his washing mashine up. Instead, he had merely walked into the bathroom with an undeniable limp, had brushed his teeth and had shrugged his day clothes off before he had crawled into bed, trying not to wince at the pain that had since turned into a constant dull throbbing one. His boyfriend might definitely have been right, he should see someone else than just his physiotherapist just to make sure that he would be nowhere but on top of his game.

༻✦༺

What had torn Leo out of his sleep the next morning had not been one fo the alarms he had set, nor had it been the notification sound of someone calling him because he had overslept and missed training. Instead, he had been torn from the depths of his sleep by the unmistakable sound of his doorbell ringing. He had groaned and had pressed his face deeper into his pillow, eager to get a few quiet seconds for himself before he would be forced to get up and who it had been that had wanted something from him, but his loosely laid out plan had come to an end when he had tried to movie his legs and had been faced with an overwhelming wave of pain which had someone spread through his entire body within a second. If Leo would have bothered to check his phone where it had been lying on the bedsite table, he would have realised that he had had missed all three of his alarms as well as a call from Cristiano.

He had let out a whimper, unable to keep it in as he had moved to sit up with almost embarassing slowness and had barely kept himself from fallen back down onto the bed at the sharper pain that had then pooled in his stomach. The rest of his body, and especially his temples, had been throbbing with a dull ache and Leo’s vision had blurred with every beat of his heart as he had stumbled rather than walked the way to the front door, not even thinking about putting on more than the baggy shirt, one of Cristiano’s, and pair of boxer shorts he had slipped on the evening before. The doorbell had rung again just as he had come close to the front door, making him flinch and Leo’s hand had been trembling quite noticeably when he had set out to unlock and open the door. He had winced when he had been faced with a wall of bright light.

“Leo? Did you oversleep? Come on, let’s go!”

It had been Gerard, Leo had realised with a delay, and he would have liked to give his best friend a proper greeting but the pain, that had numbed all of his senses, had simply been too overwhelming. He had whimpered again when Gerard had entered on his own accord, causing him to clumsily stumble against the shoe cabinet. “Geri,” Leo had managed to choke out, “how-how late is it?”

“Nine, I told you that I’d pick you up at nine...” When Gerard had gasped, Leo had barely been able to keep himself on his feet and he had clung onto the edge of the cabinet with the last strength he had brought up, “Jesus, Leo, what happened to you?”

“I...”

“You look horrible! Do you have a fever? Are you sick?” Then that his friend had mentioned it, it had begun to dawn in on him that he had indeed felt quite hot and that his shirt had been glued to his chest, soaked with sweat. Gerard had muttered something under his breath and had brought a hand up to feel at the younger man’s forehead, and the coolness of Gerard’s hand had felt like a blessing against his hot skin. “Oh my God,” Gerard had muttered, “you’re burning up. You should definitely see a doctor-” The Catalan had not even finished speaking before Leo had collapsed, simply lacking the strength he would have needed to keep himself upright any longer. The last things that he had perceived before he had slipped into the darkness had been the coldness of the wooden floor against his aching back and his best friend’s voice urging him to keep his eyes open.

Gerard had been sure that his heart had skipped more than just a single beat at the realisation that his best friend had just fainted right underneath his hand and then that he had gotten too see Leo’s face up close, his worry had increased impossibly more. Leo had been sweating, his almost ghostly pale skin shimmering with a thin sheet of sweat and even though he had been unconscious, Leo’s face had been contorted into a pained grimace and Gerard could have smacked himself when he had only managed to snap back out of his shocked state after a good few seconds of having stared at his unconscious friend. “Leo,” he had breathed, shaking him a bit in an attempt to wake him up, “Leo come on, open your eyes! Leo!” It had been in vain. Gerard had felt his eyes burning and he had kept his left had cupped against Leo’s cheek while he had dialled the emergency number with the other.

༻✦༺

The way that Cristiano had been the first one to arrive at the training grounds of Ciudad Real Madrid had been a well-familiar routine. He had left his home as soon as his mother had come over to watch Junior and while his mood had been somewhat sobered ever since he had tried, and had failed, to call Leo on his drive to the training grounds, Cristiano had tried not to think and worry about it too much. Leo had promised that he would call him as soon as he would have talked to his physiotherapist and the younger man had never broken a promise before, no matter how small and seemingly unimportant it had been, and yet he had failed to keep himself from thinking about his boyfriend when he had run his laps over the still-empty pitch.

By the time that Sergio and the others had started to turn up, he had already shed a good amount of sweat, and he had easily caught the banana that James had thrown into his direction, “Thanks, man.” He had begun to peel it after he had plopped down onto his seat on the bench, grinning from ear to ear due to the endorphin rush that his solo workout had resulted in.

“How did the weekend go,” Sergio had asked him with a low voice once the Spaniard had made sure that there had been no one listening to him, and he had chuckled at the way that Cristiano’s grin had turned into a telltale smirk. “That good, huh?” Cristiano had nodded. “Did he like the jacuzzi?”

“Oh he liked it, alright. He _loved_ it.”

Sergio had laughed and had patted Cristiano’s shoulder as if to congratulate him. The members of the team that had been present for training had just begun to leave the locker room for the pitch when Sergio’s phone had rung where he had put it away into his locker and while Cristiano had turned around to throw a curious look at his best friend, but he had followed after Sami and Gareth, the last thing he had heard before the door had fallen close behind him had been Sergio greeting Gerard with a low “hey baby”.

Jogging down the corridor and out onto the pitch, Cristiano had ruffled through his ungelled hair, thinking that he would have liked to try and call Leo during the short break in the locker room. He had since stopped being ashamed or reserved of how emotional he had tend to get around Leo, no matter that their relationship had still been a secret one. Enough of Cristiano’s friends had been aware about Leo’s and his relationship by then to know what they should and should not say around him, even though they had needed to keep some of the nasty comments going on simply to keep the façade of the Messi-Ronaldo enmity upright.

“Well, let’s hope that you’re in better shape today than Messi is,” Pepe had said with an invidious chuckle as he had come to stand beside Cristiano, lightly boxing the younger man’s arm and Cristiano had only barely so kept himself from snarling something in return. Pepe had once been a friend of his but since he had gotten together with Leo, he had realised just how much trash the man had always talked and he had been close to the point of being unwilling to accept it any longer.

Cristiano had let out a humorless laugh. “So like always?” he had retorted rather healheartedly, catching his left leg by the ankle to stretch his quadriceps and repeating the same action with his right leg.

Pepe had eyed him for a moment, “Haven’t you heard? There was an ambulance at his house and everything, Twitter was blowing up about it the last time I checked.”

Cristiano’s face had fallen before he could have prevented it and his eyes had grown a bit wider as his heart had dropped into the pit of his stomach, causing a cold shudder of fear to creep up his spine. “What?” he had breathed, swallowing hard and looking around as if someone or something around him could have given him more details about what happened to his boyfriend and just as he had whirled around, Sergio had come into sight and Cristiano had felt his chest clench quite painfully when his best friend had met and had kept it. Zidane had given them the signal to stair their warm-up and as they had begun to move, Cristiano had immediately joined Sergio’s side.

The Spaniard had spoken first. “Geri just called me,” he had said, watching Cristiano out of the corner of his eye to gauge his best friend’s reaction. “He told me that he drove to Leo’s house to pick him up and that Leo fainted.” Even though Cristiano had kept his gaze firmly fixed forwards, Sergio had been able to see how his jaw had clenched and unclenched. What Sergio could not have known, however, had been the way that Cristiano had been a mere second away from turning around to run and try to get onto the next flight to Barcelona. “He was crying, said that the ambulance just brought them to the hospital and that no one has an idea what’s wrong with him yet.”

The Portuguese had not stopped jogging, but it had seemed as if his body had completely acted on his own accord because his mind had definitely been with Leo, who had apparently been admitted to a hospital more than 600km away from him - as if the distance between them had not already been cruel and unbearable, and he had barely been able to concentrate on the rest of the training.

Sergio had called Gerard after their training session had been over with ninety minutes later, pulling Cristiano along until they had been hidden behind the corner at the far end of the corridor. When Gerard’s face had come into sight, Cristiano had feared for nothing but the absolute worst. Gerard had obviously still been crying, his eyes had been swollen and red-rimmed and he had pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head as if he had wanted to hide from the world. Sergio had clicked his tongue. “Baby,” he had said after a short pause, “how is it going, are there any news?”

Gerard had sniffled and had wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, his eyes moving from the screen to somewhere that neither Sergio nor Cristiano had seen, “They-They took him to the OR and-and I don’t know what to do I-”

“They did _what?_ ” The question had escaped Cristiano louder than he had wanted it to be, causing his words to resound through the otherwise empty corridor, but he could not have cared less about anyone hearing him because the images, the _memories_ that had flooded his mind had been enough to force unwanted tears into his eyes. Suddenly, he very well could have been twenty again and waiting for news about his father and it had been a realisation that had been enough to make him want to cry in earnest. _Not his Leo, too_. “Gerard, what happened to him? Tell me everything.”

The Catalan had blown his nose with a handkerchief he had pulled from somewhere and had looked around what Cristiano had known had been the ICU’s waiting room before he had answered, his voice breaking as he had spoken, “They-They said that he has an infection going on in his kidneys that’s causing them to stop working, the do-doctor said something about ingrown kidney stones and-and that it could’ve killed him if I wouldn’t have found him.”

What Sergio had said to Gerard in return, Cristiano had not actually heard over the sound of his ears ringing. It had been as if he had just been slapped across the face and he had cared very little about the way that the back of his head had banged against the wall behind him. _Leo could have died. He could have died._ Running a trembling hand over his face in an attempt to keep himself from giving into the tears that had threatened to burst out of him, Cristiano had forced himself to draw in deep breaths through his nose, but despite his best attempt he had failed to suppress the images that had been popped up into his mind and it had only been made worse by the fact that there had been no way for him to go and check on his boyfriend.

It had not mattered that he had been downright aching to do so, he never could have flown to Barcelona and visit whatever hospital that Leo had been admitted to. No matter how much he would have paid the hospital staff, almost every associate of the press would be willing and able to empty their pockets to pay them more. How long he had stood there, Cristiano had not known. He had only been pulled out of his thinking when Sergio had laid a hand onto his shoulder to get his attention, “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I-I’m here with my own car-”

“Then I’ll go and get it for you later. There’s no way that I’ll allow you to drive like this, you’ll only end up in the hospital yourself and I think that it’s enough if one of you has been admitted.”

In the end, Cristiano had merely nodded and had not said another word as he had followed Sergio into the locker room to get changed. He had been ready to cry the second that he had, out of habit, checked his phone and had seen that he had gotten no message from Leo. _Of course there had been no message from him_. Instead, he had stared at the screen and at the photo of Leo and Junior napping together on the couch, and his chest had clenched painfully. He could have lost him - in fact, there had still been a chance that Leo could... Allowing his eyes to fall shut, Cristiano had dropped his phone into his gym bag and had continued to get changed out of his training attire.

Sergio and him had not actually spoken while the Spaniard had given him a lift home, and Cristiano had turned the radio off after the host of the ongoing show had announced what he had not been able to hear, “You guys, there are news about Lionel Messi having been admitted to a hospital in Barcelona and I’m curious to find out how the Clásico-” The way that Cristiano had slammed his hand against the radio it had been a wonder that the glass had not shattered. His best friend had not commented on it, even though he had treated his car much like a child of his.

“Keys,” had been the first thing that the Spaniard had said after he had pulled up into the driveway of Cristiano’s house, and the Portuguese had unceremoniously dropped the keys into the waiting hand.

“Thank you,” Cristiano had whispered, his voice untypically quiet.

“Anytime, Cris. I’ll call you when Geri tells me more, okay? Try not to think about it too much.”

That it had been easy to say but impossible to do, Sergio must have known but Cristiano had appreciated the effort his best friend had made and he had given a little nod before he had moved to get out of the car. How he had managed to keep himself composed until he had closed the front door behind him had been somewhat of an inexpicable miracle, but once he had been in the privacy of his home, there had been no reason as for why he should have tried to keep himself together when he had been about to fall apart. Cristiano had broken down with a sob which had resounded throughout the vestibule and had stumbled against the then closed door, not perceiving how his mother had called out his name from the living room. He had stood there, sobbing more than he had in a long time, as Dolores had emerged into sight, and his mother had hurried over to him, gasping in both shock and surprise when she had seen him.

“Meu amor,” she had whispered, taking his face into her hands to wipe his tears away with the gentleness that only a mother possesses. “What happened? Is it your knee again, menino?”

Oh, what Cristiano would have given for his knee to have been his biggest problem in that very moment. “It’s Leo,” he had managed to choke out, “he-he’s in the ho-ospital, Mãe.”

“What?” If he would have looked at her, he would have seen the look of honest shock on her face, but so he had only nodded. He had wanted to tell her more, what had left him, however, had been just another sob. Dolores had muttered something along the lines of “my poor boy” and had pulled him down into a hug, to which Cristiano had answered by closing his arms around his mother to cling onto her, much like he had donw it when he had been just a boy.

He had not been able to believe that he, after the truly peaceful weekend he had with Leo, had found himself at a point at which he had feared that he had been about to lose everything - for the second time, and it had been just as painful as it had been eleven years ago. Maybe, Cristiano had thought, it had been even more painful than losing his father. They had known that his father had been dying after years of fighting. Leo, however... he had not been ready to let his Leo go and he had felt seriously sick to his stomach as he had, involuntarily, imagined how their relationship would only hit the public when he would hold Leo’s funeral speech. _It had not been supposed to be like this._

“I’m sure that it’ll all be okay,” Dolores had said, running a hand up and down his back in a calming motion. “It’ll be okay, you’ll see, menino.” Cristiano had given his head a shake, his entire body trembling from the force of his sobs, and he had only reluctantly let go of his mother, allowing her to take him by the arm and lead him into the living room, where Junior had been playing with his building blocks.

Upon seeing his father, the two-year-old had squealed and had pushed himself onto his chubby legs to toddle over to where Cristiano had collapsed onto the couch. “Pai,” Junior had giggled, his behaviour such a stark contrast to how Cristiano had felt in that moment, “Pai, Pai!”

“Hush docinho, not now,” Dolores had tried to silence the boy, but Junior had merely laughed again and had slapped his small hands onto his father’s thighs in an attempt to get his attention.

Cristiano, however, had been so lost in his fear that he could not have been bothered with tending to his son, even though he had known that Leo would have scolded him for ignoring Junior like that. “Pai, _uuup!_ ” He had not moved from where he had been slumped on the couch with his face hidden away behind his hands and so it Dolores who had picked Junior up and had carried him over to his bulding blocks.

“Stay here and play for a bit, okay? I’ll make you pancakes later, docinho,” Dolores had whispered, pressing a quick kiss onto the top of her grandson’s head before she had moved back over to her son and had wrapped him up in her arms as much as she could have done it. She had guided his head onto her shoulder, wanting to signal that she had been fine with him crying as much as he had apparently needed to. Dolores’ heart had ached, both for Cristiano and Leo. She definitely had not expeced to hear such horrible news about the man she had hoped would turn out to be a son-in-law of his in the future and while she had listened to her son cry, she had prayed for Leo to be alright.

Cristiano had cried for a few minutes, not speaking a word but Dolores had not forced him to. “He has a kidney infection,” he had eventually said, his voice quiet and broken, “Piqué said that... his kidneys stopped working and that-that he would’ve died if he wouldn’t have gone to see him and...”

“Meu amor...” Cristiano had wiped at his face, and Dolores had been ready to cry as well. There had been tears burning in her eyes but she had wanted, and needed, to stay composed for the sake of her son.

“Mãe, what-what if he dies?”

She had clicked her tongue, “He won’t.”

“You don’t know that...”

“Leo is young and otherwise healthy, menino. His body is strong, he will fight.” Dolores had combed through Cristiano’s hair, pushing a few curls away from his forehead and wishing that there would have been something she could have said to make him feel a bit better, “Isn’t there anyone that you can call?”

Cristiano had wiped at his tear-strewn face once again. “Ser promised that he’ll call me if he knows more,” he had whispered. “There’s nothing that I can do.”

“Maybe you should lie down for a bit, hm?”

Lying down had been the worst thing that Cristiano could have imagined in that moment, because he definitely would have failed to keep his thoughts contained if he would have lay down and wondered whether Leo will ever lie beside him again. “Can you watch him?” he had asked instead, not really waiting for an answer before he had stood from the couch with rather unsteady legs.

“Of course, meu amor. If there’s anything that I can do...”

“Just watch Junior, okay? I-I’ll be upstairs. Thank you.”

And so it had come that Cristiano had, roughly two hour later, used the last bit of focus and energy he had left to keep his legs moving on the treadmill and he had no idea whether it had been droplets of sweat or tears that had been running down his face. Sergio yet had to call him, it’s been hours and Cristiano had not known what he had been more afraid of, getting a phone call or hearing nothing because he had not really been able to handle either. Neither had promised the good news. He had continued to run even though his legs had felt like they had been ready to give out underneath him. That he had forgotten his phone in his gym bag by the front door, Cristiano had not even noticed, as he had been so focused on the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

He had stared out of the large window front of his home gym without looking at anything in particular, so lost in his own world that he had not actually heard how his mother had called out for him from downstairs or how she had opened the door, “Wait a moment, I don’t know whether he’s able to speak right now... Cris?” Dolores had come to stand in the opened door for a couple of seconds, watching her son push himself to his very limits, before she had crossed the room and had come to stand beside the treadmill, “Cris?”

Cristiano had flinched, so surprised by his mother addressing him that it had nearly caused him to stumble over his own feet and he had slammed a hand onto the stop button of the treadmill, turning his head to look at his mother as if she had offended him even though Cristiano really had not wanted to treat her in such a way. She had not deserved it, but since he had been on the verge of breaking down he had not considered to think about his own behaviour. “What?” he had asked her, and with his voice having lacked any bite whatsoever it had come out as more of a whisper.

“It’s Gerard, menino.”

The shudder that had shot through Cristiano’s body had been enough enough to cause him to sway on his feet and hold onto the handles of the treadmill, “Piqué?” Dolores had nodded, a small, encouraging smile on her face as she had held the phone out for her son to take it and Cristiano had quickly wiped at his face with his towel before he had reached out with shaking hands. By the time that he had mustered the courage to look at the screen on his phone and at Gerard’s face, Dolores had already left the room and had closed the door behind her. Cristiano had sat down on the nearby bench, his heart beating so strongly that he had felt it in his throat. “Gerard? Are-Are there any news on him?”

If he would have made his decision based on the background noises, Gerard must had been standing in a hospital corridor instead of a waiting room. The Catalan had managed a smile, something that had caused Cristiano’s breath to catch in his throat. “The surgery went well,” Gerard had said, moving a tired hand over his face. “They said that Leo will make a full recovery and that he’ll definitely be able to play again. Thank God, I wouldn’t want to be the one having to break such news to him...” Closing his burning eyes, Cristiano had leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling and had send a quick prayer to heaven. “He wanted me to call you.”

“Can I see him?” it had bursted out of Cristiano. Gerard had nodded, lowering his phone as he had walked. Cristiano had balled his free hand up into a fist as he had waited. There had been a lot of noises reaching him, most poignant so the beeping machines that he had been more familiar with than he would have liked to be, and he had failed to hide a gasp when he had made out a whimper. _Leo_. “Gerard,” he had urged the Catalan on, desperate to see his boyfriend but when Gerard had turned his phone around and the ICU room had come into sight, Cristiano had found tears rising into his eyes all over again. He had hurried to wipe them away.

Leo had been lying in a hospital bed, seeming even smaller than he had usually been and so vulnerable that it had broken Cristiano’s heart. At least half a dozen machines and twice as many tubes had been attached to Leo, one of them a nasal cannula, and the younger man had been paler than Cristiano had ever seen him in all those years that he had known him. It had physically hurt him that he had not been able to be with Leo and it had only gotten worse when his boyfriend, after Gerard had sat down in the chair by his bedside, had whimpered and had turned his head into Gerard’s direction, who had hummed and had laid a soothing hand onto Leo’s forehead.

“Cri-is.” Leo’s voice had been slurred and his whimper high-pitched, but there had been no mistaking in what he had said, “Cris-”

“Bebê,” Cristiano had gasped, clutching at his phone with both hands. “It’s okay, I’m here.” His eyes had been glued onto Leo’s face, taking in the way that it had scrunched up before Leo had managed to open his eyes. “I’m here bebê, I’m here...”

“Cris...” Leo’s eyes had been dull and unfocused, as he had been pumped full with various medications and a lump had grown in Cristiano’s throat at the sight of tears making their way down his boyfriend’s face, “Cri-is.”

“Nonono bebê don’t cry, please don’t cry.” Cristiano had swallowed hard, he had been so relieved that Leo had been alive. His boyfriend had not yet been healthy or even alright, but _alive_ and he had yet been torn apart by the fact that he had been unable to properly tend to him like he would have liked to.

“Cris...”

“You’ll be okay, won’t you? You’ll go to sleep and when I see you again I’ll take proper care of you, okay?” That he had not gotten a proper answer had been what he had expected, and so he had smiled when Leo had managed to fix his gaze onto the phone and give a small nod. “I love you, bebê.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea that kidney stones _can_ kill you so when I read it in an article, I just had to write it :-D I hope you don't hate me too much for it ^^


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long breaks between the uploads and that the chapters are a bit rusty - life is super stressful right now, with adapting to living in a foreign country and transferring to a new university. I'm using every free minute I have to write. 
> 
> **It's still my goal to update once a month just so that I won't lose touch with my baby (which Perfect Paradise has since become) but I'm trying my best to finish the chapters up a bit faster. Thank you for your patience, kudos and lovely comments so far :-)**
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Valentine’s Day, 14. February 2016.** _

Thanks to the way that the surgery had been done with a micro-invasive procedure and had left two, mere centimeter long incisions on Leo’s flanks behind, he had been granted a release from the hospital after just three nights. Considering how close his brush with death had been, Leo had expected to be forced to stay in the Non-Intensive Care Unit for at least a week, but the doctor had stated that he could well and easily recover in the privacy of his home as long as he would promise to take his medication and stay on a strict rest for fourteen days and while the prospect of having to stay away from training for such a long amount of time had not been all that appealing, Leo had known that he had been more than just lucky to not have any consequential damage from the infection and the emergency surgery.

Gerard, Neymar and Luis had visited him daily while his other friends and teammates had come around on the second day to bring him flowers and little get-well-soon gifts and given the amount of people he had known, every available surface his single room had quickly been occupied by vases, cards and half a dozen balloons. Leo had not only received gifts from Barcelona, however.

The nurse had just finished checking the bandages on his wounds when a courier had knocked at the door and had entered the hospital room, carrying a glass vase that had held a large bouquet of lavender roses. Leo had not needed to read the note to know who had send them for him. As much as he would have liked to have Cristiano sitting at his bedside, he had known that his boyfriend’s suffering had been ten times as bad as his own because despite Cristiano’s best try, he had failed to hide how red-rimmed his eyes had been when Leo had called him once the drugs had worn off enough for him to know what he had been doing. 

With everything that had happened surrounding Cristiano’s father, Leo had wished that he could have prevented him being admitted to the hospital in the way that it had happened, that he, maybe, could have gone to the ambulance the evening of his return to Barcelona but when he had mentioned it during one of the FaceTime calls with him, Cristiano had immediately silenced him by stating that it had been ridiculous for him to even think that and that he had not even thought about blaming Leo for what and for how it happened. During that call, it had been Leo who had failed to keep himself from breaking down into tears. He had not only cried because of the hours of panic he had caused Cristiano to go through but because he had, for the first time and only then, realised how close he had come to never see Cristiano and little Junior again.

The days in the hospital had gone by rather fast, as Leo had simply slept between the visits, the routine check-ups and the FaceTime calls with Cristiano and Dolores. Cristiano’s mother had called him whenever she had been free, and even though she had done most of the speaking and Leo had merely listened, it had been much more comforting than the calls he had gone through with his parents. Both his mother and his father had called him once each, but the calls had been kept short and rather awkward because Leo had not properly spoken to either of them for quite some time. In fact, he had not even told his parents about his relationship with Cristiano in the year that it had been going on, simply because he had not trusted them enough since they had begun to slowly but steadily grow apart. When he had been given the envelope with his discharge papers, it had been Gerard who had come to pick him up and bring him home.

The Catalan had been waiting for him in the entrance hall of the hospital, munching away on an apple where he had been sitting on one of the benches and while Leo had tried his best, he had failed to walk without the significant limp that the post-surgery pain had caused and since the incisions had been on both of his flanks, it had not been possible for Leo to use crutches. Gerard had been on his feet and had thrown the core of his apple into a nearby trashcan as soon as Leo had come limping into sight, moving over to the younger man to take his hospital bag from him and offer him a steady arm to hold on to, ignoring Leo’s halfhearted sound of protest.

Leo had been a bit embarrassed and concerned that he still had not been able to walk on his own, all the more so since Gerard, Neymar and him had been due to fly to Seville the day after tomorrow to go on the triple Valentine’s Day date Sergio and Cristiano had been so determined to pull off, making Sergio’s farm the most secluded and perfect location for it. The walk over to where Gerard had parked his car had taken them longer than Leo would have liked it to, mostly because they had to stop and make short pauses every five steps or so and he had wondered whether he should not have insisted on staying admitted for a few more days until he would have healed more. “There you go,” Gerard had said after he had helped him to carefully sit down in the passenger’s seat and had rounded the car to put Leo’s hospital bag into the trunk of the car.

“Thank you,” Leo had breathed in return, his voice strained and his breathing laboured. While Gerard had started the car, Leo had rummaged through the pockets of his jacket to pull out one of the blisters of pain killers he had been given, swallowing two pills at once with the help of the water that Gerard had handed him wordlessly.

He had known that it had been futile, wishful thinking, but when Gerard had unlocked the front door and neither Cristiano nor Junior had been waiting there for him, an immense wave of disappointment had washed over him, though he had tried to not let it show when his best friend had helped him upstairs and into his bedroom. They had agreed that Gerard would stay with him until the three of them would set out for Seville on Sunday and Leo had been more than grateful that he had not needed to stay on his own - he probably would not have managed anyway, considering the sheer amount of trouble the stairs had given him. He had smiled at the sight of the balloons and cards that had been brought over from the hospital, his smile had, however, died down when Gerard had helped him to sit back against a stack of pillows.

“Do you need anything?”, Gerard had asked as he had taken Leo’s shoes off.

“I’m not invalid, Geri.”

His best friend had snorted, “I know that you’re not, but don’t think that I didn’t notice how you flinched at every bump in the road.” Leo had rolled his eyes, but had smiled when Gerard had pressed a quick kiss into his hair before he had stated that he would go downstairs and prepare a light dinner for them, leaving Leo to busy himself with his phone.

[I’m home now :-)], he had texted Cristiano, he would have liked to speak to him but he had not been sure whether his boyfriend had been able to talk on the phone but Leo had barely set his phone aside before it had vibrated from the FaceTime call his boyfriend had requested and while he had looked quite terribly, he had not hesitarted to accept it. The smile that had vanished from Leo’s face due to the pain had been back with full force when both Cristiano’s and Junior’s face had popped up on.

“Hey bebê,” Cristiano had greeted him, the warm smile his words had been accompanied by causing Leo’s chest to feel as full as it only could have felt, “how are you doing?”

“Good,” Leo had said. The white lie had slipped over his lips easily while it had caused his face to flare up and he had rubbed one of his unshaven cheek in an attempt to get rid of the blush, but when Cristiano had cocked one of his eyebrows he had known that his lie had not worked and he had muttered a correction. “Still in pain but I took some meds so it’s getting a bit better now.”

The Portuguese had hummed, not taking his eyes off Leo as he had kissed the top of his son’s head and had bounced him softly in his lap. Leo had smiled at the way that the toddler had looked up at the screen with wide eyes; he had seen him a couple days ago and yet it had felt like much too long since he had gotten to hold and cuddle with him. “That’s good, bebê. I’m glad that it’s getting better.” Cristiano had fallen silent, simply eyeing the younger man for a moment. “I’m really glad bebê, I worry a lot about you.”

“I know and I’m so-”

“Don’t you dare say that you’re sorry,” Leo had been cut off, “I told you not to do that. Eu poderia ter te perdido, eu nunca poderia te culpar por qualquer coisa que aconteceu.”

Nodding and definitely blushing, Leo had pulled the fluffly blanket he had been covered with a bit higher up, making sure that he would not put any accidental pressure onto his wounds. “What are you doing? I didn’t think that you’d be able to talk right now.”

“You know that I’ll always find time to talk to you, bebê.” The fact that Leo had rolled his eyes had not meant that he had not liked Cristiano’s comment. He had, of course, known that his boyfriend would never once put him aside unless it would be absolutely necessary, which Leo would have understood, of course, and yet it had felt good to hear it once more. Leo has suddenly wished that Cristiano would have been sitting at his bedsite right then in that moment. Maybe, he had thought, Cristiano holding his hand could have taken the last bit of pain away that the medication had failed to overpower. Cristiano had switched cameras so that Leo had been able to see that the older man had been sitting on the floor of Junior’s nursery, a small suitcase lying opened before him and as it had seemed, he had already packed most of his son’s clothes and toys that would not go into the diaper bag.

“I’m just packing up Junior’s things,” the Portuguese had went on, shifting his toddler son, who had been causing a small ruckus where he had been sitting on his lap. “We’re leaving quite early tomorrow, there’s a lot that has to be done. Não está certo, meu filho? Vamos surpreendê-lo.” The cameras had been switched once more and Cristiano’s face had come back into sight, the smile that had been on it a wide one. “I can’t wait to see you again bebê, I can’t believe that it hasn’t even been a week yet.”

Leo had spend a long moment just looking at Cristiano, taking in his face and every single one of his boyfriend’s ridiculously perfect features. _I’m so lucky_ , he had realised once more, managing to muster a small smile himself. “I can’t wait either,” Leo had swallowed rather hard, “I just hope that I’ll be able to do more than limping around and being a useless burden for the day.”

Cristiano’s brows had pulled together and even before he had opened his mouth to speak, it had been clear that he had not been all that happy with what the younger man had said, “You could never be a useless burden to me and you know it, Leo. But even if, I wouldn’t care if you would come to Seville to spend the day on the couch because all that counts is that you’ll be with me and Junior, okay bebê? I don’t want you to talk about yourself like this, you’re anything but a burden to me.” Whether it had been due to what Cristiano had said or to the sharp stab of pain which had shot through his body when he had tried to sit up a bit higher against the pillows, Leo had not known, but he had found himself blinking through a veil of stubborn tears and his chest tightening with a rising sob from one second to another. “Bebê...”

“Sorry, I just-” He had not even gotten around to finish speaking before the sob had escaped him and he had set his phone aside to hide his face behind his hands, letting out a sound that had stood somewhere between a gasp and a laugh as he had done so. Leo had shaken his head at the apparent ridiculousness of his behaviour; that his reaction had partly been due to the various medications which his body had been pumped full with, he could not have understood in that moment and Leo had not managed to stop himself from crying for good. His situation had annoyed him so much, he had wanted to be back in training and not lie around so uselessly and in pain and Junior’s babbling had made it all even worse.

Leo had only vaguely heard how Cristiano had clicked his tongue and had muttered something under his breath in Portuguese but had, since he had not looked at his phone, missed how much Cristiano’s gaze had softened when his boyfriend had realised that Leo would not make a move to pick up his phone anytime soon. “It will be okay, bebê. You just have to get through the rest of today and tomorrow and then I’ll be there with you again. Come on, pick up the phone bebê.” A few seconds of silence had followed Cristiano’s words, seconds during which Leo had continued to sob and wipe at his face. “Eu te amo, eu te amo tanto que parte meu coração que eu não posso estar lá com você agora, mas por favor não chore assim.”

The younger man had wiped at his face rather roughly and had blindly reached for his phone. He had needed to clear his throat before he had managed to speak. “Sorry,” he had muttered, and his voice had broken a bit when he had used the sleeve of the hoodie he had been wearing to dab at his eyes. “I guess that had to come out.”

Cristiano had hummed and while he had not stopped smiling, his smile had not quite reached his eyes that time as he had been all but untouched by Leo’s minor breakdown, all the more so since he had not actually been able to give him the comfort Leo had so desperately needed. “That’s okay bebê. You know that I’ll always be there for you, right? No matter what it is, you can always call me.” Leo had nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak at that point but the moment between them had come to an end nonetheless when Junior, who had still been sitting on his father’s lap, had squealed and had managed to get a hold of Cristiano’s phone.

The two-year-old had made Leo laugh through his tears simply by bringing the phone to his chubby face and calling out for him, “Leo! Hi Leo!”

“He-ey niño,” Leo had greeted him back with a smile and a quick wave, “how are you doing?”

“Pai, da! Leo, me want Leo!” Junior had giggled and had bounced where he had been sat, and the fight that the toddler had put up when Cristiano had reached out to take the phone from him had been quite adorable, even if Junior had been doomed to lose it. “Nooo!”

“Não, já chega. Comporte-se.” Cristiano’s son had mewled and had made one last attempt to reach before he had leaned back against his father’s chest and had resumed to play with his Barça teddy. “We both miss you,” Cristiano had said, dropping a quick kiss onto the top of Junior’s head. “Are you alone?”

“No, Geri’s staying with me until we’re flying to Seville.”

The crease between the Portuguese’s eyebrows had vanished as he had apparently remembered that his boyfriend had told him about it on an earlier occasion, and he had nodded, moving a hand through his son’s curls, “That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to be all alone, you’re fresh out of the hospital.”

Leo had huffed a laugh, wiping at his eyes and the remainders of his tears once more, “I couldn’t be alone, I barely made it up the stairs _with_ Geri’s help, Cristiano. If it goes on like this you might have a real chance to win in April.”

Cristiano’s laugh had been a baritone and honest one, the kind of laugh that Leo had rarely ever heard in public and which had never failed to make his chest clench a little, “I won’t say anything about that.”

The younger man had rolled his eyes and had leaned back against the pillows, hiding a yawn behind his hand. He had been exhausted and that he had cried had not really made it any better. A drowsy smile had grown on his face. “I love you,” he had said with a sigh, repeating it once more simply because he had felt like it, “I love you.”

Cristiano’s smile had widened, “I love you too, bebê. Can I talk to Gerard?”

“He’s downstairs,” Leo had retorted, his words accompanied by a small sigh. “I’m sorry, I’d go and tell him but...”

“That’s okay, don’t get up. I’ll just call him later.” He had shifted on his pillows, something that Cristiano had misread, “Don’t get up, bebê!”

“I _can’t_.”

“Oh meu amor...” Cristiano’s eyes had roamed over the screen and there had been no mistaking in the fact the older man had disliked the distance between them as much as Leo had done it. “Get some rest, I don’t want to keep you up any longer if you’re so obviously tired. Call me when you wake up tomorrow, okay?” The younger man had answered with a small nod, not seeing a need to use his voice. “Good night, bebê. Cuide bem de você mesmo, você é precioso demais para eu te perder.” 

Sighing, Leo had locked his phone and had put it aside onto the nightstand. If it would not have been Cristiano in whose presence he had just cried his eyes out, he would have been ashamed, but he had felt a bit better then that he had talked to his boyfriend. He had closes his eyes and had continued to lie there on his bed for a few minutes, startled out of his state of near sleep only when Gerard had entered his bedroom, carrying a tray with two soup plates. Thankfully, his best friend had not asked him about his swollen, red-rimmed eyes as he had sat down on the bed beside him to hand him his dinner. The chicken soup that Gerard had whipped together had been just what Leo’s stomach had been able to hands while he had been still convalescing from the surgery and the toll the infection had taken on his body. 

Leo had thanked him with a smile and a quiet thank you, wincing as he had sat up a bit higher against the pillows so that he would not end up spilling the soup all over him by accident. For the first minute or so, neither him nor Gerard had made an attempt to start a conversation and the Catalan had absentmindely fidgeted with his spoon before he had eventually spoken. “You know,” he had begun, his voice having dropped to a low tone and Leo’s brows had narrowed when he had noticed that Gerard had refused to look directly at him. “If there’s something going on with Cristiano... I just want you to know that you can trust me.” There had been colour spreading out over the older man’s cheeks, so as if he had been embarrassed by what he had voiced out loud, “I won’t tell Ser anything about it.”

Leo had reached out to squeeze Gerard’s wrist, feeling a twinge in his chest at the way that his best friend had been unsure whether he had still trusted him like that. Of course he had trusted him, he had been his best friend for well over a decade and Leo had hoped that he would still be a decade from then on, “I know and I _do_ trust you Geri, but I didn’t cry because of something that he did. I honestly don’t even know why I cried.” He had huffed a laugh and had let go of the Catalan’s arm, “I guess I just had to let it out but... Cris and I are good, I promise.” Gerard had nodded slowly and Leo had been able to see how there had been a weight that had been lifted off his shoulders. Considering what he had gone through with Sergio, Leo had understood that he had been a bit worried about his relationship. He had hummed around a mouthful of chicken soup, “Plus Cris knows that you and Ney promise to break his if he should dare to cheat on me or something, and he also knows that you two would pull through with it so...”

“Hell yeah I would, if he should dare to do anything like that a pair of broken legs will be the smallest of his worries.” They had looked at each other and grinned - Gerard had never failed to make Leo’s mood better, not when he had been a young teenager and neither when he had been recovering from the surgery. The Catalan had snorted a laugh, “It’s a bit crazy, isn’t it? I mean you, Ney and me... and Cristiano, James and Ser...”

“The press would surely have a field trip if they would find out about us all,” Leo had said with a laugh, “considering the drama that surrounded Ney and James for months.”

“But I really do want to make it public sometimes,” Gerard had almost whispered as he had put his empty soup plate down onto the tray he had set onto the nightstand earlier. “I mean... it’s almost been three years. Don’t you think it’s time?”

It had been Leo’s turn to look away then, because the fact that Cristiano’s and his relationship had still been a secret one had not been something that he had spoken, or even thought about all that oftem because it had scared him. With their relationship hidden away from the public, Leo and Cristiano had lived good and comfortably. Sure, there had been no welcome or goodbye hugs at the airport, no public outings as the family they had been for over a year by then and neither had Leo, nor his boyfriend, been able to post any photos that would have indicated that they had been in the same place at the same time. Leo had been fine with that, he really had been. Of course he would have liked to take Junior to the park or go on a walk with Cristiano, but he had been much more afraid of having to face the ruthlessness of the press and its associates. If keeping their relationship and private life together hidden away had been the only way they would be able to continue to live a peaceful and quiet life, then he had been ready to let it be like that. No matter how much it had burdened him.

Leo had only noticed that he had gotten lost in his thoughts after a good long moment of Gerard staring at him and he had cleared his throat, twisting around with a wince to set his own plate down as well. “I-I mean... if Sergio feels ready to do it too then-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, I just...” Leo’s voice had dropped down to a whisper, “I don’t think that Cristiano and I will ever be able to go all out, Geri. I mean... Ney and James were _friends_ and the press still tried to tear them apart so how are we supposed to ever come out?”

The older man had clicked his tongue, “Come on, you know that he couldn’t care any less about what’s being said about him.” Leo had looked down at where he had been absentmindedly fumbling with the hem of the duvet that had been bunched up in his lap. “Seriously, Leo. He may not be a good friend of mine or anything but I know that that’s how it is. There’ll be a time for you two.”

He had shrugged and had, for the second time in an hour, found himself blinking back tears which had been just as unwanted as they had been the first time. So much for being the _pecho frío_ the press had loved to call him. Gerard had not said anything, had, after a few seconds, instead shifted closer to Leo and had pulled him into a bear hug, cradling the back of his head while Leo had clung onto the back of Gerard’s hoodie.

“It’s okay,” his best friend had whispered, pressing a little kiss into his hair and beginning to rub circles on Leo’s back with his free hand. “Just let it out, it’s okay.” And Leo had let it out, it had seemed that the past few days had simply been too much for him to bear and while he had managed to act like he had brushed it off as if it had been nothing, it had hit him harder than he had wanted to admit it. “We’re all glad that you made it out alright, Leo. We were so worried about you.” They had stayed like this for a few minutes until Leo’s tears had dried up and he had almost fallen asleep in Gerard’s arms. “Do you think that you can get up to brush your teeth? Or do you want me to bring you your stuff here?”

“Would you-Would you do that?” Leo had asked, wiping at his face.

Gerard had snorted and had pulled back to look down at his best friend’s tear-stained face. He had mustered a smile, “Come on, you know it’s the least thing that I can do for you. Wait here, okay?” 

༻✦༺

He had let out an almost inaudible sigh when he had pulled the door of Leo’s bedroom close until it had stood a few inches ajar and had thrown one last look at his asleep best friend not even ten minutes later. Seeing Leo like that, crying and obviously without composure, had been anything but easy for him either, since coming so frightfully close to losing his best friend had been quite the shock for him too. Whenever he had closed his eyes at night, he had still seen how Leo had collapsed onto the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Careful that he would not lose the hold he had on the tray, Gerard had made sure that Leo’s face had really been relaxed and not contorted due to pain or discomfort and it had only been then that he had truly set out to leave and had made his way downstairs.

While he had put his phone on silent mode when he had gone to pick Leo up from the hospital, he had already known that it must have been blowing up as everyone had wanted to know how the Argentine had been doing. He had set the tray with the dirty dishes down onto the countertop before he had sat down at the kitchen table and had pulled his phone out, and since he had expected the countless of notifications he had not been all that surprised when it had turned out that the Barça group chat had exploded during his absence - what had surprised and confused him, however, had been the unknown number that had messaged and tried to call him but Gerard’s initial confusion had dissolved when the person behind the number had asked him whether he would really stay with Leo until they would fly to Seville or if it had been a while lie meant to appease him.

Gerard had moved a hand through his hair and had let out a drawled-out sigh; he had not been in the mood to talk to Ronaldo at all, as he much rather would have liked to call Sergio, Neymar or even Luis despite the fact that he would have needed to keep his mouth shut about Leo’s and Cristiano’s relationship when it had come to the latter, but Gerard had known just how much Leo had wanted him to give an update to his boyfriend in Madrid so he had saved the Portuguese’s number before he had dialled it. It had been as if Cristiano had only waited for him to call, a theory that had not been all that abstract, since he had picked up before the call had rung for a second time.

“Piqué?”

He had cleared his throat, “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry that I’m just calling you now, I was busy.” He had left the _with Leo_ unsaid. Why he had done so, he had not known.

There had been a moment of silence on the other end of the line and Gerard had been able to make out a TV running in the background and something that had sounded like Cristiano’s toddler son babbling happily about to himself, “Are you staying with Leo?”

What it had been that had laced the Portuguese’s voice, he had not been able to put his finger upon, but it had somewhat reassured him that the other man had been serious about the relationship with Leo. Not that Gerard had needed the reassurance in the first place. Sure, he had his doubts when Leo had first told him and had been less than friendly towards his best friends’ enemy-turned-boyfriend but he had since grown more trusting towards Cristiano. “Yeah,” he had said. “He told me that I don’t have to, of course, but it’s not like he’d be able to stay alone.”

Cristiano had huffed a laugh, “He might’ve mentioned that, yes.”

“He’s asleep now.” Gerard had thrown a look at the clock, “I’ll have to wake him up in an hour to give him his pain meds.”

“Is he... a bit better now?”

He had suppressed a sigh, knowing that if their roles would have been reversed and it would have been Sergio who had been stuck in a situation similar to Leo he would have reacted the same, “Yeah, he’s definitely a lot better. The meds he got prescribed are doing their job and he didn’t look like he was in any real pain before he fell asleep.”

The Portuguese had sighed in relief at the other end of the line, muttering something along the lines of “meu pobre bebê, ele não merece isso” and it had sounded as if he had moved a hand over his face twice. “That’s good,” Cristiano had eventually said directly addressed to Gerard, his voice having dropped to a level that Gerard had not remembered ever having heard before. “I worry a lot about him, you know? He always acts stronger than he has to be and I would’ve come to visit him but... you know that’s not possible right now.”

“I know.”

The tension between them had been a bit awkward, simply because they had not spoken all that much prior to Cristiano and Leo getting together and had only become truly friendly around each other during more recent times. “You can always call me if something should happen to Leo, okay? It doesn’t matter when it’s in the middle of the night I just... I just really want to know what’s going on with him.”

“Leo?”

A tiny voice had called out and Gerard had smiled without having really been aware of it when Cristiano had spoken to his toddler son in Portuguese, “Sinto muito, meu amor, mas Leo não pode falar com você agora. Ele está dormindo, assim como você fará em alguns momentos, okay? Ele estará conosco amanhã.”

“Leo? Pai, me quer Leo!”

“Sinto muito meu amor, mas isso não é possível.” The way that Junior had whimpered and had begun to cry softly had not been all that unexpected, given the late hour of day and the fact that the two-year-old had been just as enamoured by Leo as Leo had been by him in return. “Oh meu filho...” Cristiano had sighed, “I have to bring Junior to bed. Thank you for calling me.”

“No problem, I know that you’d do the same for me.”

“Of course, Gerard.”

The Portuguese had hung up after that and Gerard had wasted no time to dial his boyfriend’s number, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he had waited for Sergio to pick up. His eyes had closed, definitely relieved, when the older man had picked up after a short while. “Hey baby, I would’ve called you in a minute anyway. How are you?” Taking in a deep breath and letting it out through his nose, Gerard had suddenly found himself blinking back tears and he had whispered his boyfriend’s name, hoping that he would take the hint. Sergio had, of course he had, and Gerard had spend the next forty minutes crying, then laughing with him and his excitement for their time together in Seville had only increased by a tenfold.

༻✦༺

“Stop laughing,” Leo had groaned, but his words had lacked the bite he had intended them to carry and so Gerard and Neymar had continued to laugh, albeit in a way that had obviously not meant to offend Leo while he had gone down the stairs, taking one step after another with almost embarrassing slowness. “It’s not funny.”

“No you’re right. It’s not funny,” Neymar had retorted but the Brazilian had still bursted out into another fit of laughter and Leo had rolled his eyes, sighing when he had finally reached the bottom of the stairs. If he would have the strength left, he would have smacked his best friend. Leo had definitely been better than he had been just two days ago, had since gained the ability to walk more and stay out of bed for longer periods of time back, but he had still not been one hundred percent healed and doing more physically demanding things like taking a flight of stairs or bending down to pick something up had reminded him of it every single time with no exception. The three friends had moved on to the front door, where Neymar had helped Leo to put on and tie his shoes while Gerard had taken Leo’s suitcase and rucksack to put it into the trunk of Neymar’s car which had been waiting for them in the drive way.

“Thank you,” Leo had muttered, his face burning from embarrassment, and his best friend had answered to Leo’s low-spoken words by kissing his cheek before taking his car keys from the side table. Neither of them had spoken about it directly, but they had all been excited for the tripple date that their Blanco boyfriends had organised. Sergio’s farm in Seville would turn out to be the perfect location for that, as the Spaniard had fought for and won a restriction order against paparazzi, which had meant that they would, hopefully, be able to move and act more freely than they could have done it in either of their cities and it had been that hopeful outlook that had stopped them from even thinking about being bothered by the fact that they had needed to be at the airport at 5:30 AM.

If all, Leo had been ready to burst from excitement. He would be able to spend time with both Cristiano and Junior and he had _prayed_ that his pain would not come in the way of him playing with the two-year-old like he had always done it, since one of his biggest fear had been disappointing the toddler and harming their relationship which had already been under a strain due to the distance between them. He had packed a couple of the presents that he had ordered off Amazon and which had originally been intended for a Christmas surprise for him, there had been a dozen presents for Junior whereas Leo had only packed a single one for Cristiano because he had known for a fact that his boyfriend had not actually wanted anything of materialistic value from him at all. 

“I don’t care about presents,” Cristiano had whispered into his hair when he had been sitting on Cristiano’s lap in the jacuzzi, disturbing the moment of silence they had been enjoying until then. “I’ll be more than happy if we see each other on Valentine Day’s and I’ll be able to spend the day with you, bebê. Voce é tudo que eu preciso.” Leo had caught himself smiling as he had looked out of the window, but since he had been sitting in the backseat of Neymar’s car with Gerard in the passenger’s seat, neither of his best friends had noticed and questioned him about it.

El Prat de Llobregat Aeropuerto had been as good as empty when they had made their way through the departure hall. Neymar and Gerard had each hooked an arm into one of Leo’s to help him with walking a bit more steadily after the Argentine had vehemently turned down Neymar’s offer of organising a wheelchair for him. He had been convalescing, not invalid, and they had managed to go through security within a few short minutes and without any problems. What had turned out to be a challenge, however, had been the fact that the gate from which Neymar’s private plane had been scheduled to depart from had almost been at the other end of the airport.

Leo’s face had twisted into a pained grimace with every slow step that he had taken by the time that they had reached their designated gate almost fifteen minutes later. “Shit,” Gerard had muttered, standing by a bit helplessly after he had helped Leo to sit down and had watched how the younger man had pressed two tablets out of the blister and had swallowed them dry. “Are you okay?”

Leo had nodded and had forced himself to a smile, he had not wanted to worry his friends and while the pain had put him on edge, it had been nothing compared to how it had been mere days ago. “I’m good,” he had said, putting in a short pause to catch his breath, “when can we board?”

Neymar had checked his phone and had fixed the Barça snapback on his head after he had put his phone back into the front pocket of his sweatpants again, “Shouldn’t be longer than ten minutes now. Do you need anything?” The Brazilian had sat down beside Leo and had put an arm around his best friend to pull him into a side hug, pressing a quick kiss into Leo’s hair that had made the shorter man smile. Leo had wordlessly shaken his head in negation and had continued to stay seated leaned against Neymar until a flight attendant had come over to them and had let them, or rather Neymar, known that the plane had been ready for boarding. That time, all three of them had snorted a laugh when Leo had groaned at the prospect of having to push himself off the seat and Gerard and Neymar had needed to help him onto his feet, “Lord, and you aren’t even 30 yet?”

Other than he had done it earlier that morning Leo had boxed Neymar against the upper arm, though with little strength of course. They had gotten settled on the plane in one of the two four-seat-groups with Gerard and Neymar sitting nest to each other so that Leo had been able to sprawl himself out over two seats once the plane would have reached its flight attitude, and the young Argentine had done just that, lifting his legs onto the free seat with a cut-off groan and putting the neck pillow around his neck. He had closed his eyes. The pain meds had since kicked in and had reduced the bright, burning pain to a dull throbbing which, albeit constant, had been bearable and Leo had kept his eyes closed for a moment longer before he had opened it when Neymar had spoken to him, “You can sleep, we’ll wake you up.”

Leo had smiled at his best friend and had checked his phone, though it had been no surprise that Cristiano had not texted him back yet. At seven in the morning, he had definitely had been busy with Junior and Leo had put his earphones in, starting one of his audio books, before he had put his phone down into his lap and had closed his eyes, slowly but steadily falling into a light sleep. One hour and forty minutes later later, Leo had been woken up by Gerard gently shaking him by the shoulder and telling him that they had been about to land. San Pablo Airport had been a bit more busy than the airport in Barcelona had been, and so Leo had been really glad that they had been able to take one of the side exits which had lead directly into the underground car park where Neymar had told them to look out for James’s sleek grey Mercedes S-Class.

Leo had felt an undeniable twinge of jealousy when he had watched how James, who had waved at them to gain their attention, had run up to Neymar and had thrown himself around his boyfriend’s neck. “Missed you Papi,” the Colombian had breathed into Neymar’s ear, low but not quiet enough for Leo and Gerard to not hear it.

Neymar had closed his arms around his boyfriend, nuzzling his face into the side of James’ neck, “I know baby, I missed you too. Tive algumas noites difíceis sem você.”

The two had hugged each other like that for a long moment before Neymar had pulled back and had placed a rather quick kiss onto James’ lips, since it had been obvious that the Brazilian had wanted to get going. They all had wanted that. James had nodded and had opened the trunk of his Mercedes before he had handed the keys over to Neymar. “You can pu-pu-put your things into the trunk.” Gerard had taken Leo’s suitcase and rucksack from the younger man hand Leo had given James a quick hello hug before he had, slowly as ever, climbed into the backseat of the Colombian’s car. “Ho-ow are you doing, Leo?” James had asked him while Neymar had reversed the car out of the parking lot, turning around where he had been sitting in the passenger’s seat of his own car to smile at Leo, who had mustered a small smile in return.

“Better,” he had said, “glad that I was able to make it.”

Neymar had reached out to take one of James’ hands with his right one, then that he had not needed it to drive the automatic car and James had squeezed it once, “Cris is very happy happy too, he was scared that you might not be in the condition to travel at all.”

Not knowing what he could have said to that, Leo had simply continued to smile and the four friends had fallen silent. The car radio had played in the background while Gerard and Leo had busied themselves with their phones, and Leo had not needed to wait for longer than a minute or so before Cristiano had finally texted him.

 _Cristiano:_ [Are you on the way yet? I can’t wait to see you! ❤️😘]

Feeling a blush rising into his face, he had bitten his bottom lip and had tried to stop his heart from soaring like it had ended up doing because it had just been ridiculous, Cristiano had been his boyfriend for over a year by then and Leo yet had to leave that initial _oh my God I’m so in love_ phase. The Portuguese had send him a photot before Leo would have typed his answer. It had been a photo of Junior standing by a large window, his small hands planted against the glass and Leo’s smile had widened at the sight of the big yellow ten on the two-year-old’s back.

 _Cristiano:_ [ _We_ can’t wait, bebê 😉]

Quickly saving the picture into the album he had with photos of Cristiano and Junior he had hurried to send a reply, [I love you two ❤️]

 _Cristiano:_ [We love you too! 😘]

The drive from the airport to Sergio’s farm in Bollullos de la Mitación had taken them a bit more than half an hour and Leo’s excitement had increased the closer he had come to their destination and he had known for a fact that Gerard had been going through the same experience, as the Catalan had been grinning from ear to ear like he had usually only done it after a win. Neymar had swiftly parked James’ car beside Cristiano’s Bugatti and while Gerard had practically leapt out of the car and had bolted to the trunk to get the bags out practically as soon as the Mercedes had come to a halt, Leo had moved in slow motion because he had not wanted to unknowingly hurt himself while the pain meds had still been working.

He had not been to Sergio’s farm before, of course, but he had been able to see the appeal Gerard had often talked about the second that he had managed to climb back onto his feet. Other than the _SR4_ sign right by the entrance, there had been no signs of Sergio’s career as a footballer. By the time that Leo had set into motion, Gerard, Neymar and James had already been waiting by the front door for him and Leo had tried to hide his limp as good as he possibly good have done it - the last thing he had wanted had been to put himself into the center of attention with all of their friends present.

The front door had been opened a second later and Sergio had come into sight, grinning almost as wide as Gerard had been as he had stepped aside to allow them all to move into the house. He had winked at his boyfriend. “Hey baby, come here and give me a kiss.” Gerard had, of course, not needed to be told twice and had only put his and Leo’s bags down before he had jumped into Sergio’s waiting arms, gasping the older man’s name.

Leo had tried to not feel awkward when he had closed the front door and had taken his shoes off without bending down. “Leo!” The way he had whirled around may have resulted in a rather painful twinge, but Leo had ignored it when he had seen Junior running over to him with grabby hands, bouncing curls and a wide smile on his chubby face, “Leeeooo!”

“Hey niño,” Leo had almost whispered, smiling a bit sadly when Junior had hugged his left leg and and had looked up at him with pleading eyes, obviously wanting to be picked up. “I’m sorry, but...”

Leo had found himself wrapped up in a pair of strong arms before he had even heard footsteps approaching him. Cristiano had pressed his face into the younger man’s hair as he had hugged him as tight as he could have done it without putting any accidental pressure onto Leo’s healing incisions. “Bebê,” the Portuguese had whispered, keeping Leo securely in his arms and Leo had slowly brought his own arms up to hug his boyfriend back, closing his eyes when Cristiano had tightened the embrace even further. When they had parted a week ago, neither of them had expected things to take such a turn and Leo had swallowed hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. He had come so close to never seeing him again. “Bebê...”

Cristiano’s repetitive whisper had urged him to look up and Leo had not expected to see tears in the older man’s eyes, his own eyes burning when Cristiano had cupped his face and had kissed him, deep and with no hurry in the world and the kiss probably would have lasted for longer if it would not have been for Junior, who had whined quite unhappily and had tugged at the fabric of Leo’s trousers, “Up! Leo, me want up! Up nooow!”

Cristiano had let go of Leo’s face to pick his toddler son up and settle him on his hip, much to Junior’s dislike who had not stopped whining and had leaned over to make grabby hands at Leo in an attempt to get a hold of him. Their friends had since moved further into the house to give them a moment of privacy, their muffled chatters and laughters reaching them where they had still stood by the front door and Cristiano’s eyes had roamed over Leo’s face, so as if he had wanted to memorise the tiniest details of it. Leo could not have known that he had wanted to do just that. “Come on,” Cristiano had eventually said, ignoring his unhappy son and taking his boyfriend by the hand, raising it to kiss the back of it. The tone of voice he had spoken with had been similar to that he had usually only used with Junior, “Why don’t you lie down for a bit, hm?”

He had not known whether it had been done deliberately or not, but Leo had been incredibly relieved when the guest room that Cristiano, Junior and him would be staying in until the next day had turned out to be located on the ground floor of Sergio’s house. It had been rather spacious, equipped with a king-sized bed, a crib and other necessary furniture and had offered a gorgeous view over the paddocks that the horses had roamed over. It had, however, not been the view that had caught Leo’s attention, but the massive bouquet of lavender roses which had stood in a vase in front of the middle one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, bebê,” Cristiano had said when he had noticed how Leo had been staring at the flowers and he had smiled at Leo before he had kissed the younger man, gently pushing his tongue past Leo’s lip, holding little Junior between them in a perfect picture of the family that he had only gotten to be in private or with their friends. “I’m so glad that you made it Leo, I was so worried about you...” Leo had bitten back the apology that had been practically resting on the top of his tongue and he had instead leaned closer to Cristiano to initiate another kiss, which his boyfriend had done without a second of hesitation. “How’s the pain, bebê?”

“Not that bad,” Leo had said, allowing himself to be lead to and helped onto the bed. His gaze had wandered off to the large bouquet of roses by the window, he had loved the fact that Cristiano had stuck with the flowers he had got him for their first ever date. The Portuguese had kissed the top of his head and had put Junior down onto the bed beside Leo. The toddler had immediately climbed onto Leo’s lap, ignoring his father’s warning to be careful, to nestle against Leo’s chest with a low coo. While Cristiano had rummaged through one of the bags he had brought along, Leo had sat up a bit higher against the pillows and had languidly combed a hand through Junior’s curls, “That’s a nice jersey you’re wearing, niño. Do you like it?”

The two-year-old had giggled and had pushed himself into a seated position, slapping his hands against Leo’s chest, “Yes!”

Once Cristiano had found what he had been looking for, he had moved back over to the bed and had sat down beside Leo’s legs, causing Junior, who had still been sitting up, to lie back down onto Leo’s chest and wrap his short arms around his upper body as if to stop his father from taking him away. “Bebê?” Leo had looked up and into his boyfriend’s faintly blushed face, but before he could have commented or asked him about it Cristiano had held out a medium-sized velvet Cartier box for him to take it, “Could you... wear it now?”

Leo’s face had burned up from one second to another when he had opened the box and he had forgotten about giving an answer to his boyfriend’s question, simply staring at the necklace that had laid there on a black satin pillow, not in disbelief but because it had been such a _Cristiano_ thing to do. Leo would be able to wear Cristiano’s name around his neck, _literally_. The Cartier necklace, which had obviously had been a custom piece, had glittered when Leo had tilted the box to get a closer look at it. There it had been, Cristiano’s name put into white gold and traced with diamonds but despite it all, the necklace and it’s name pendant had still been subtile enough to not seem ostentatious. Leo had only been pulled back into the here and then when Junior had tried to grab the box and Cristiano had quickly taken his sin by the wrists to hinder him from doing so.

The Portuguese had eyed Leo, almost sheepishly, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Leo had answered, his face split by a wide smile. “I love it, thank you.”

Cristiano had returned the smile and had shuffled closer to bend down and kiss Leo’s cheek before he had taken his son. Or he had tried to do that, at least, because Junior had clinged onto Leo much like a small koala and had let out a loud whine of protest. “Nino, Leo tem que descansar um pouco,” Cristiano had tried to argue with the two-year-old, but it had been in vain. “Vamos, você pode brincar com o Tio Sergio-”

“He could stay?” Leo had suggested, putting the box with the necklace aside onto the nightstand so that the toddler could not have reached it, putting the hand that had not been splayed over Junior’s back into the boy’s curls, “We can just lie down together.”

Neymar, James, Sergio and Gerard had been standing around in the kitchen and drinking coffee by the time that Cristiano had joined them. Both Sergio and James had immediately noticed how relieved their best friend had been, and the Spaniard had handed him a Doppio, “He’s better, isn’t he?”

Cristiano had nodded and had taken a careful sip from his coffee, leaning against the edge of the countertop, “I told him to lie down for a bit so that he’ll last until tonight, Junior’s with him. I couldn’t even bribe him with you.”

Sergio had faked a pout and had pulled Gerard closer before he had joked, “Do you have an idea how heartbreaking it is to see your own godson replacing you with his father’s boyfriend?” The Spaniard had winked at Cristiano, who had merely rolled his eyes and had continued to drink his coffee, well aware that his best friend had not meant it.

Leo had not fallen asleep. The nap he had taken during the flight had been sufficient enough and so he had simply laid there propped up against the pillows with Junior curled up against his chest, absentmindedly moving a hand over the toddler’s back in a calming motion as he had looked out of the windows and at the few horses that had been roaming around the wide paddocks. He had not been aware of the smile that had lingered on his face. Moments like these had been his happiness; the fact that Junior had been so trusting and comfortable around him no matter how long they would not see each other due to Cristiano’s and his duties at their respective clubs had reassured him that the way they had been handling their situation had not been as wrong as he had thought it to be sometimes.

For how long Leo and Junior had laid there until the toddler himself had been rested enough and had become more active, he had not known, but if it would have been close to half an hour, Leo would not have been surprised. He had let out a chuckle when Junior had wriggled and had pushed himself into a sitting position. The two-year-old would have climbed off Leo’s lap if Leo would not have wrapped his arms around him to keep him in place. “What is it, niño?” Cristiano’s son had ceased in his wriggling when Leo had paid attention to him and had giggled as he had pointed into the direction of the windows, almost bouncing in Leo’s lap from excitement. Leo had laughed. “What is it?”, he had asked the two-year-old again, lifting his upper body off the pillows with a cut-off groan to kiss Junior’s cheek, his chest feeling full at the boy’s childlike excitement.

“Look! Leo, look! Cavalos, da!” Junior had continued to point at the horses, which had since begun to gallop around when Leo had looked at them again.

“Yeah, they’re horses, niño.”

The boy had nodded, “Ho-ses.” Removing his arms from around the boy when his squirming had intensified once more, Leo had allowed him to get out of his lap. He had groaned at the pain that had shot through his lower back as he had turned a bit too quickly to make sure that Junior would not fall off the edge of the bed when the toddler had clambered down from it. The boy had made it onto his feet, though not without triggering Leo’s protective instincts, and had run over to the window, placing his small hands against the glass similar to how he had done it in the photo that Cristiano had send Leo earlier that day, “Ho-ses! Da!”

Leo had swung his legs off the bed, “Do you want to go and see them?” He had walked over to Junior and had placed a hand on the top of his head, combing through his dark curls.

“Yes,” the toddler had said with a nod and to Leo’s relief, he had not wanted to be picked up. As if he had understood that Leo had not gotten all of his strength back yet, he had enclosed two of Leo’s fingers with his hand and had smiled almost angelically up at him while Leo had moved them back to the bed and had heaved Junior up to put him down on the edge.

He had silenced the boy’s mewled protest with a kiss into his curls, “Just a second niño, you need your shoes and a jacket,” and had hurried to dress Junior before he had allowed him to slide off the bed. The young boy had taken two of Leo’s fingers again and had skipped at his side, obviously eager to leave the guest room, but Cristiano’s son had become too jittery and had ended up stumbling over his own feet, falling face-first onto the wooden floor. Leo’s heart had dropped at the sharp cry that the two-year-old had let out and he had clenched his jaw to ignore the pain as best as he could have done it, bending down to pick Junior up and bring him into his arms. “Shhh you’re okay cariño,” he had whispered, making sure that there had not been any wounds on the toddler’s head before he had kissed his cheek, bouncing him a bit to calm him down.

Junior had, thankfully, been unharmed and Leo had, minding his own injures, shifted him into a more manageable position on his hip, smiling when Junior had stopped crying from one second to another. The boy had blinked hard and had rubbed at his eyes with small, balled-up fits, his breath hitching. “That’s a good boy.” Leo had kissed his cheek once more and had stopped by his rucksack to fumble the blister of pain killers out of the inside pocket, pressing one pill out to swallow it dry. “Do you want me to put you down?”

“No down,” Junior had whined, wrapping his arms around Leo’s neck. “No dooown!”

“Okay niño, I won’t put you down. Let’s go and see the horses, yeah?” The toddler’s tiny _yeah_ had made Leo smile and he had leaned his cheek against Junior’s head as he had left the guest room. He had been able to vaguely make out the voices of Cristiano and the rest of their friends from a distance and while he had no idea how to actually get to the paddocks, he had not wanted to ask and had instead moved further down the corridor until he had spotted a back door. Opening it, he had squinted against the sunlight, relieved to see that the paddocks had been mere meters away. “Look at that!”, Leo had gasped with an excited tone of voice which had made Junior giggle and remove his arms from around Leo’s neck to clap his hands together.

“Cavalos! Leo, da! Ho-ses!” The three PRE horses that had been inside the paddock had raised their heads to look at who had neared in on them, nickering as they had moved closer to the fence and while carrying Junior had been rather uncomfortable, Leo had refused to out him down as he had practically already been able to see Junior crawling underneath the fence and getting trampled by the stallions. “Oh,” Junior had let out as a tiny whisper, his eyes growing wide and full of awe when Leo had come to stand at the fence and he had been just a few centimeters away from one of the horses.

“Careful,” Leo had admonished him when the boy had leaned over to touch the horse’s forehead. Junior had gasped at the feeling of the soft coat and had pulled his hand away before bringing it down again, gasping once more.

The horse had sighed and had stayed put, looking utterly relaxed as it had allowed the toddler to stroke down its forehead and the bridge of its nose in a repetative motion. Being so out in the open with Junior had been a bit weird and the inital fear of a paparazzo hiding somewhere had not gone away, but Leo had tried to focus on Junior and the moment instead. The two-year-old had not made any move to stop petting the horse, his eyes still wide and fixed on the large animal and Leo had laughed when Junior had wrapped his short arms around the horse’s head to hug it, something that the horse had only tolerated for a few seconds before it had neighed, had stepped away and had shaken its head. Cristiano’s son had squealed and giggled, clapping his hands together. He had leaned back against Leo, slipping two of his fingers into his mouth out of habit.

Leo had clicked his tongue and had pulled the toddler’s hand away, “No niño, that’s icky. Your hands are dirty.”

“Nooo, no di-ty!”

Laughing, he had nuzzled his face into Junior’s curls, “Yes dirty, we’ll have to wash them first,” and had moved over to the bench he had spotted near the paddock. Since the fence that had kept the horses in had looked more secure and toddler proof than it had seemed to have been at first, Leo had allowed Junior to move around on his own while he had sat down on the bench, suppressing a groan. He had kept a close eye on Junior, who had been happily babbling and kicking at the dirt as he had moved right back over to the paddock, smiling at the way that the two-year-old had been so obviously enamoured by the horses. Junior had made adorable little sounds when he had watched the horses move around and had made grabby hands at them.

Leo’s smile had disappeared when he had suddenly perceived the barking of dogs, which had seemed to approach rapidly. “Junior, niño, come here.” The toddler had simply continued to look at the horses, however, and Leo had been on his feet the second that the two large German Shepherds had come running around a corner of the house and directly for them, causing Leo’s heart to skip a beat. The whimper that Junior had let out when Leo had downright snatched him off the ground had been loud.

“¡Detente, vuelve aquí!” He had taken an involuntary step backwards even though the dogs had immediately come to a halt after Sergio’s call had come from somewhere behind him. The dogs had wagged their tails and had trotted off to their owner, who had been standing in the opened patio door and had muttered something to Gerard, who had looked rather cross. Junior had held onto Leo’s hoodie with a surprising amount of strength in his little hands, obviously terrified by what had happened and Leo had waited until Sergio had gotten a hold of his dogs’ collars before he had moved to the terrace. “Sorry,” the older man had said, offering him an apologetic smile. “They don’t bite, they just get too excited over new people sometimes.”

Leo had merely nodded in acknowledgement and had forced himself to a smile when Cristiano had come into sight from behind Sergio, worry visible on his face. “Bebê you shouldn’t carry him yet.” The Portuguese had sighed and had taken his son from his boyfriend’s arms, placing a quick kiss onto Leo’s lips, “Remember what the doctor said?”

After having recovered from the inital shock, Leo had ended up playing with Junior until it had been time for the toddler to have a little lunch, consisting of mashed potatoes and carrots, and his nap. He had not even tried to put up an argument when Cristiano had practically forced him to have a lie-down with Junior while Sergio and Cristiano had whipped together a quick lunch for the six of them, since the two-year-old had grizzled when Leo had tried to leave after he had put him down into the crib. “You’re just like your father,” Leo had whispered, smiling and brushing a curl away from Junior’s forehead, who had simply sighed in his sleep and had tightened his hold on Leo’s hoodie.

It had been around six thirty in the evening that Leo, Gerard and Neymar had been taken aside by their respective boyfriends, told to get themselves ready for the date and to wait in their rooms until they would be picked up and while it had been a bit ridiculous, all three Blaugranas had been exited to find out what the other three men had planned in their absence. A triple date had, after all, not been something any of them had done before and Leo had found himself becoming increasingly more nervous when he had fixed the collar of his wine red dress shirt about forty-five minutes later. He had taken his time, but at the same time had tried not to dawdle too much; Leo had taken a shower, had shaved and had even gone so far as to put concealer onto the dark circles around his eyes in an attempt to look his very best because he had already known that Cristiano would definitely dress up immaculate as always and had wanted to match with him that evening.

Humming to the music that he he had put up to play in the background while he would get dressed, Leo had looked at himself in the mirror. He had combined the wine red dress shirt with a pair of dark trousers which had hugged his backside in just the right way, and he had to admit that he had looked more than just acceptable. His gaze had caught on the necklace which had stood in a stark contrast against the colour of his dress shirt and Leo had not been able to help himself, he had needed to trace the curves of the pendant where it had rested on his chest. He had thought about the conversation he had with Gerard the day that he that he had been released from the hospital. Of course he would have liked it if the entire act of hiding their relationship would no longer have been necessary, if he would have been able to go all out and about and post a photo of his new necklace on Instagram and while he had known that it had been nothing more than wishful thinking, it had still made him sigh with a heavy heart. Leo had been pulled out of his thoughts by a knock at the door to which he nearly scrambled to answer to.

“Ready to go, bebê?”

 _Good God_ , Leo had thought, _he had looked absolutely gorgeous_. Dressed in an expensive dark blue suits which had been a perfect match to his tanned skin, with a shining pair of diamond earrings and his curls gelled back and coiffed to perfection, Cristiano only had to smile down at Leo to make the younger man blush profusely. Leo had actually been a bit speechless and his face had throbbed slightly when the Portuguese had stepped closer, had drawn him into his arms and had leaned down to kiss him. His heart had somersaulted when Cristiano had hummed against his lips. “You’re beautiful,” the older man had whispered, placing a kiss onto a corner of Leo’s mouth and Leo had let out a small, disbelieving laugh.

He had not yet, and would probably never stop feeling like somewhat of an ugly duckling in comparison to his boyfriend who had looked like a _literal_ model but it had not been a surprise that Cristiano had not accepted his subtile act of putting himself down. “I dare you to do that again, because that would imply that I’m a liar...” Leo had given his eyes a little roll but had smiled, his eyelids dropping close when Cristiano had cupped his face and had kissed him again, a bit deeper and longer that time. The Portuguese had dragged the kiss out before he had stepped back and had put an arm around Leo’s waist, mindful as to not press down on either of the sore incisions, and he had kept his boyfriend securely at his side while he had lead him into the living room.

The room had, just as the rest of the house, had been all stone walls and wooden beams, making it feel like a home even though Sergio had obviously spend the majority of his time in Madrid and acting as the perfect location for what the Spaniard, Cristiano and James had planned for the evening. A large, round table had been moved into the middle of the spacious room and Neymar and James as well as Sergio and Gerard had already been seated at it. The table had been decorated with a white table cloth and the same expensive dishes that could have been found in a high-class restaurant, perfectly topped off with an almost ridiculously bouquet of red roses right in the middle of it and candles which had been distributed throughout the room - out of Junior’s reach, of course, and had dimmed the room into a warm, romantic light. The classical music that had been playing had really rounded it off to perfection and Leo had turned his head, rising into the tips of his toes, to kiss Cristiano’s cheek.

Cristiano had hummed, had broken out into a wide grin as he had walked Leo over to the seat that had been intended for them and since his back had been turned towards him, Leo had not noticed how Cristiano had winked at Sergio when he had pulled the chair back for Leo to sit down. The Portuguese had kissed the top of Leo’s head before he had sat down beside him, putting his left hand in its rightful place on the younger man’s thigh.

“There we are,” Sergio had said, rather unnecessarily so, but the smile on his face had been so wide and honest that not even Gerard had rolled his eyes and commented on it. The Spaniard had cleared his throat and had stood up, fixing an invisible crease out of his white dress shirt. “Thank you all for coming, Cris, James and I are delighted to have you here tonight.”

“Oh my God,” Gerard had groaned, a blush rising into his face which he had hurried to hide behind his hands, and the others had laughed when Sergio had leaned down to kiss the top of his boyfriend’s head.

“I love you too baby, thank you for your input. So,” he had straightened to look around the small round of their friends, grinning from ear to ear. “The buffet and the drinks can be found in the kitchen, because none of us wanted the dogs or Junior to get to it.”

Leo had stopped listening to Sergio when Cristiano had leaned closer to him on a whim and had kissed the corner of his mouth, his lips lingering as he had squeezed Leo’s thigh once, and so he had flinched when Neymar, James and Gerard had all stood up and had set out for the buffet. Cristiano had chuckled, kissing one of his boyfriend’s flushed cheeks and reaching for both of their plates, “Stay, I’ll bring you something bebê.” Leo had nodded and had, once he had been left alone at the table, sighed and had moved his hands through his hair once, though not without making sure to not mess it up too much.

“’Eo?” The small voice which had come from behind him had surprised him and a crease had formed between his eyebrows when he had turned around in his chair, and Leo had let out a sound of surprise when he had seen Junior, who had been sitting in a playpen. If asked, Leo would have needed to admit that he had been so drawn in by how _good_ his boyfriend had looked that he had not noticed the toddler before and the two-year-old had squealed when Leo had looked at him, holding up his teddy, “’Eo!”

“Are you’re playing nice with your teddy, niño?”

“Play wif me?” Junior’s speech had been impaired by the pacifier which had bobbed between the boy’s lips, “’Eo play wif me?”

“Leo não pode brincar com você agora,” Cristiano had said, having come back from the kitchen carrying Leo’s plate and glass, “sente-se e brinque com o seu ursinho, meu filho.” Junior had whined, clearly unhappy with what he had been told, and Cristiano had set the plate and glass down in front of Leo before he had walked over to his son to ruffle through his curls in an attempt to mollify him. It had been to little avail, but Cristiano had sat back down beside Leo and had paid attention to his boyfriend rather than his mewling toddler son.

The six friends had fallen into easy, comfortable chattering and it had been a definitve relief that they had all been able to flirt with their respective boyfriends as much as they had been comfortable with, laughter filling out the room every other minute or so. Leo had sipped at his raspberry wine spritzer, not pulling his left hand away from where it’s placed on top of Cristiano’s even if it had meant that he had only been able to eat with one. It had been well into the dinner that he had noticed how Sergio had looked at him from across the table and he had blushed before the Spaniard had even opened his mouth to speak.

“You put his name onto him? Cris, no one will steal your boyfriend from you.” 

The blush on Leo’s face had darkened at the way that Cristiano had squeezed his thigh and Neymar and Gerard had whistled through their teeth.

“No one will try to do that _here_.”

Unsure what to say, Leo had cleared his throat and had, when Junior had whimpered in his playpen, quickly stood up to tend to the unhappy toddler, “Yeah I know niño, it’s rude that we just let you out like that, hm?”

The two-year-old had immediately broken out into a smile when Leo had come to stand in front of the playpen, making grabbing hands up at him. “’Eo!” Leo had nuzzled his nose into Junior’s soft curls after he had sat back down, and the adults had laughed at the way that Junior had spit his pacifier out when he had spotted the food on Leo’s plate, “Da!”

Cristiano had clicked his tongue, bending down to pick the pacifier up. “You already had your dinner, nino,” the Portuguese had tried to argue, but Leo had immediately come after the toddler’s wish and had cut the grilled chicken breast into small, manageable pieces, holding one of it to Junior’s mouth. 

When Cristiano, Leo and Junior had retreated to their room for the night, it had been well past ten and Junior had since dozed off in Leo’s arms after he had vehemently refused his father to take him instead. “And that’s the Thank You you get for waking up every three hours to give him a bottle,” Cristiano had muttered, but Leo had known that the older man had not really meant what he had said. He had stroked through Junior’s curls one last time before he had straightened from where he had been half bent over the crib, despite the discomfort the position had caused him.

“I’ll be back in Barcelona tomorrow. He’ll be all yours again then, Cris.” Cristiano had groaned, had pulled Leo into his arms and had dropped his head to hide his face in the smaller man’s hair, muttering something under his breath. “Hm?”

“Don’t remind me,” Cristiano had repeated, louder that time. “I don’t want to let you go.” Instead of answering verbally, Leo had brought his arms up to close them around Cristiano’s waist in return and had nestled his cheek against his boyfriend’s chest, closing his eyes as he had listened to the steady thumping of Cristiano’s heart. “Eu te amo muito, por favor não se esqueça disso bebê.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it's taking me so long to get the new chapters done. My mental health deteriorated a lot since I moved and the last few weeks haven't been easy for me. I'm hardly able to concentrate or write more than a hundred words per day, which is why the chapters seem terribly rusty compared to what I wrote half a year ago - I'm still trying my best, as I don't ever want to abandon this story, I just thought that I'd let you know about my struggles and why the updates are coming so slowly. Maybe the length of the chapter will make up for the wait a bit :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Sunday, 06. March 2016.**_

Taking advantage of the only free day of his week to get all the chores done which had accumulated over the week had been a ritual that Leo had first established when he had moved into his very own place and he had kept it ever since, even a decade later. He had liked doing them and since it had meant that the privacy of his home had not been disturbed by any frequenting staff members, it had only been a win-win situation for him. 

Sure, Leo had not liked chores at all when he had been a young kid and his mother had called him home earlier than his friends had needed to leave because he had not done the dishes before he had grabbed his old, battered football and had run off to play, but as soon as he had gone to living on his own he had discovered the appeal that his mother had always spoken and he had always shaken his head in disbelief about. The first Sunday of March had been the first day that Leo had been able to get the chores done on his own and not only with the help of Gerard, Neymar or Luis after his surgery, as he had completed his first week back at the gym and the training ground and his friends had backed off on their own accords, trusting him that he had not been lying about how he had been doing just because he had not wanted to be a burden to them.

They had been there for him whenever Leo had needed their help, practically around the clock and without any complain whatsoever and while that help had prevented Leo’s house from drowning in chaos, he never would have gotten the idea to ask them to clean the windows and dust off the bookshelves just because he had not been able to stand it to see them all dirty and had put it onto his own agenda for when he would have convalesced enough. 

On Sunday, Leo had woken up determined to do what had to be done rather than allowing himself to sit around and watch Netflix for the majority of the day. Other than a few twinges that had been triggered by wrong and rash movements, he had not actually felt much of the surgery and the infection that easily could have cost him his health, his career and, quite possibly, his life if things would have taken a different turn, if Gerard would not have come to check on him. He had been due to take a few meds and go to regular check-ups with his nephrologist for the following six months, but compared to what could have happened, he could not have been bothered by those circumstances and had instead just been grateful that he had managed to get out of the precarious situation with the only long lasting remainders being the two small scars on his flanks. 

The only thing that had not seemed to be willing to let go of Leo, however, had been the nightmares. There had still been times that he had woken up sobbing with tears streaming down his face in the middle of the night, because his nightmares had always revolved around the same fear: dying. No matter how much he had tried, Leo had always failed to get rid of the mental image of him lying in an excavated grave with Cristiano and Junior looking down at him, waving goodbye before the first load of dirt would be thrown onto him. Those always repetitive nightmares had made the distance between them seem more unbearable than it had been for many months and had caused Leo to miss his boyfriend even more, but the Argentine had made sure that he had not made it obvious around Cristiano and had not texted his boyfriend as much as his anxiety had urged him to do it.

That had been where the chores had come into play, and why Leo had actually smiled when he had gotten his cleaning utensils out of the storeroom. Just like his mother had told him, cleaning for hours on end while listening to one’s favourite music would always help with anxiety and overthinking and while his relationship with his mother had deteriorated over the years, he had used her advice and had set out to work his way through the upper floor of his house first.

“Quisiera pasar la noche bailandote, intocable, te estoy cazando aunque se que tu novio esta mirandome y ya mis gatos estan al tanto. Quisiera pasar la noche bailandote, intocable, te estoy cazando aunque se que tu novio esta mirandome,” Leo had sung along, his own voice barely audible over the volume of the song that had been playing from the speakers. In the last four and a half hours he had cleaned the entire upper floor, from the windows to the bookshelves and the far corners under his bed, and had worked his way through the ground floor with only the living room in need of his attention and he had just stepped onto the ladder by one of the windows, a microfibre cloth in his hand, when he had thought that someone had ringed the door bell. Frowning, he had wiped at his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand and had climbed down from the ladder to check whether he had heard correctly.

He had not known who it could have been, because none of his friends had been due to come over, but then again he had long stopped counting the times that Gerard and Neymar had crashed at his place without asking him first. They had been family rather than just friends to him anyway, and in Leo’s books family had never needed to announce themselves.

There had been another ring of the door bell and Leo had shaken his head, opening the door rather zestfully. He had expected to be met with Gerard, holding a bottle of wine in his hand to celebrate the fact that Leo had been allowed to drink again, or maybe Neymar, storming past him to talk him into a game of FIFA, but he definitely had not expected to be hugged by two people at once. While Junior had been clinging to his legs, Dolores had hugged him to her chest in a motherly embrace and Leo had been so stunned by the sudden turn of events that he had failed to react at first.

It had only been when Dolores had whispered what had sounded like a Portuguese that Leo’s heart had dropped and he had closed his eyes, bringing his arms up to hug her back almost as tightly as she had been hugging him. They had not seen each other in person after Cristiano’s birthday, had only talked over FaceTime during the time he had spend in the hospital and convalescing at home. “Docinho,” Cristiano’s mother had said with a sigh when she had pulled back and had cupped a gentle hand against Leo’s face, smiling at him. “Oh, I’m so glad that you’re okay. I was so worried about you, you gave us all quite the shock.” Leo had given a lopsided smile in return, because really, what had there been for him to say, and Dolores had kissed his cheek before she had allowed him to step away and turn his attention to Junior instead.

The toddler had been giggling, looking up at Leo with wide and pleading eyes, “Leo? Leo! Leo up! Leeeooo me up, please?”

Even if he would have wanted to, Leo never could have said no to him and he simply had to laugh at the giggle the two-year-old had let out as he had picked him up and had settled him on his hip in the all too familiar position, “You’re getting so big niño, I won’t be able to carry you for much longer until you’ll be too heavy!”

Dolores and him had exchanged an amused look when Junior had whined and had wrapped his short arms around Leo’s neck, “Me no big Leo, no big!”

“Ah yeah, of course you’re not, niño. I forgot about that.” The boy had cooed and had rested his head on Leo’s shoulder, who had nuzzled his face into Junior’s curls to press a kiss into them, and it had been moments like that one which had always made Leo wonder about how he had managed to withstand the distance between them in the first place. Dolores had rummaged through her handbag and had gotten her phone out, asking whether Leo had been alright with her taking a photo of him.

“You know my son,” she had laughed and Leo had nodded, hoisting Junior a bit higher onto his hip and smiling into the camera. That he had been wearing one of Cristiano’s oversized CR7 shirts, he had only remembered when Dolores had pointed it out after she had taken a photo of him and her grandson. “Very cute, docinho.” He had looked down at himself, blushing rather profusely. “I hope that we’re not disturbing you,” Dolores had said, opening and shrugging off her jacket to hang it onto the coat rack.

“No no, of course you’re not I just... Cris didn’t tell me that you’re coming so I didn’t prepare anything...”

“Well I hope that he didn’t tell you,” Cristiano’s mother had said with another laugh. “I wanted to surprise you. He lamented about how he isn’t able to come, so I though that I could take Junior and visit you. We haven’t seen each other in so long, docinho.”

 _So long_ had only been a month, but Leo had agreed nonetheless. It had been too long. Moving a hand over Junior’s back Leo had, once again, only smiled, though that time it had been due to the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Sure, it had been far from the first time that Leo had realised just how much he had been included into Cristiano’s family, but it had still made him emotional and he had been incredibly grateful for what he had gained in the past fourteen months, as it had been so much more than he could have dreamed of. “I, uhm,” he had cleared his throat, “I’ll just go and turn off the music.”

Balancing Junior on his hip, Leo had hurried to the living room to turn off the music before he had asked Dolores to follow him into the kitchen and he had been glad that he had already cleaned the kitchen or he would have been very embarrassed. “Cristiano told me about this.” Dolores had chuckled at the confused sound that Leo had made from where he had been working on setting up his coffee machine. “That you refuse to hire staff, docinho.”

“I don’t _refuse_ to do it, I just don’t see a reason as for why I should when I can easily do it myself.” While Leo had set mugs for Dolores and himself out onto kitchen counter, Junior had continued to babble and suck at two of his fingers, making grabby hands at the milk that Leo had taken out of the fridge. “Are you hungry, niño?”

“He probably is, he had a banana before we came here but you know him. Ele é exatamente como o pai.” Leo had hummed in agreement and had pressed a quick kiss into Junior’s hair before he had put the toddler down onto the floor to tend to the coffee machine, which had announced, with a ping, that the coffee had been done. The two-year-old had, of course, not been all to happy with that. Stomping his foot, Junior had let out a loud whine of protest and had wrapped his arms around one of Leo’s legs to hold onto it while the Argentine had carried the cups of coffee over to the kitchen table, where Dolores had already sat down on one of the chairs. “Thank you, docinho.”

He had nodded and had smiled at her, his smile lingering as he had bend down to pick the unhappy toddler up, “There’s no need for you to do all of that, cariño, what is all this fuss about?” As if a switch had been flipped, Junior had gone from whining and pouting to squealing and giggling as soon as he had been the subject of Leo’s undivided attention again, clapping his hands together and offering a toothy smile to Leo, who had shaken his head in mock indignation. “Unbelievable. So, are you hungry, niño?”

“Yes! Hungwy, Leo.”

Leo had kissed Junior’s cheek, “Okay, let’s see what I have for you, hm?”, and had moved over to the fridge, opening the double-winged door. Since he had not been told that Dolores and Junior would come to visit him, he had not gone out and bought some of the toddler’s favourite food, and had, after a moment of consideration, taken out the bowl of gazpacho he had saved from last night, “This one, niño?” The two-year-old had immediately made grabby hands at the bowl and Leo had laughed, kissing one of Junior’s chubby cheeks again. God, the boy had been so dear to him. He had closed the fridge, had gotten a spoon for Junior out of the cutlery drawer and had sat down opposite of Dolores, only barely managing to keep a hold of both the squirming toddler and the bowl of soup.

“He’s acting like I didn’t feed him,” Cristiano’s mother had laughed, bringing her cup up to take a careful sip of the hot coffee as he had watched how Leo had placed Junior on his lap, had handed him the plastic spoon and had reminded him to be careful. “How are you feeling, docinho?”

The younger man had blushed a bit under her gaze and had instead focused on making sure that Junior had not ended up spilling the gazpacho all over him for a long moment before he had answered, “Better.” He had combed the hand that had not kept the bowl in place through Junior’s curls, messing them up a bit.

Dolores had continued to look at him, but there had not been any doubt behind it, only underlying worry. “You have to take care of yourself.”

“I am taking care of myself,” Leo had retorted. He had sounded abashed, even to his own ears, and to play over that he had taken a restorative sip from his Latte Macchiato. It had not been an unfounded accusation from Dolores side, however. She had been right, he should have listened closer to the signals that his body had send him because the doctors had told him that he, if he would have gone to a clinic on Saturday or even on Sunday evening, probably would not have required a surgery at all. Leo had placed a kiss onto the top of Junior’s head, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach when he had been reminded of his nightmares and he had hugged the two-year-old a bit tighter, making sure that he had not done so with too much force. The prospect that there _could_ be a time that he would hug Junior one last time had broken his heart, even though he had tried not to think about it and enjoy the moment instead, “I never meant for this to happen.”

Dolores had reached out and had put her hand on top of his to squeeze it once. She had clicked her tongue, “I know that, docinho, and it’s not what I meant. You getting so sick was just a shock for all of us, but especially for Cristiano.”

Leo had looked where he had been absentmindedly twisting one of Junior’s curls around his index finger, “He... took it bad, didn’t he? When Gerard called him?”

Dolores had tilted her head and had looked at him for a few seconds before she had answered, “Yes, but don’t you dare try and blame yourself for it. His father’s death hit him hard, even though José had been sick for many years and we were told that... we’d have to say goodbye to him soon, Cristiano still suffered the most. That’s why he reacted so badly, Leo. He’s scared that he could lose you _and_ the family he now has with you too, but neither he nor I would ever get the idea to blame you for something that wasn’t in your power at all, okay? You were ill, you needed to have an emergency surgery. How could any of this be your fault, docinho?”

Leo had merely answered with a vague nod and they had fallen quiet after Dolores had pulled her hand away again, Junior’s babbling and the spoon repeatedly scraping against the bowl having turned out to be the only sounds which had interrupted the rather uncomfortable silence that had seemed to hover above the scene at the younger man’s kitchen table. Much to his relief, however, the tension had not lasted for long.

“Hmmm!” With a squeal of delight Junior had twisted around in Leo’s lap, had grinned up at him and had waved his spoon around as if to show them something - and since it had not been empty, the spoonful of tomato gazpacho had landed right in Leo’s face, something that had made the toddler nearly double over from laughter as if it had been the most amusing thing, “Leo, Leo, Leeeooo da!” Huffing a laugh, Leo had wiped at his face with the handkerchief that Dolores had handed him despite the fact that she had been laughing almost as much as her young grandson. “Da!”

“Thank you niño, but I’m not hungry,” he had said, still laughing, and had wiped the last bit of soup out of the corner of his eye. “Eat all up.”

“No hungwy Leo?”

Leo had ruffled through Junior’s curls, leaning down to press a kiss into them, “No cariño, it’s all for you,” and had, to prevent Junior from spilling any more food by accident, taken the spoon from the two-year-old to resume feeding him instead. While the silence earlier had been heavy and uncomfortable, the silence which had sead in when Leo had spoonfed Junior the remainder of his improvised lunch had been comfortable and light-hearted. The two-year-old had not made a fuss, had merely leaned back to rest against Leo’s chest and had kicked his short legs into the air every then and there, obediently opening his mouth whenever Leo had held the spoon to his lips.

“Such a good boy, niño,” Leo had muttered, chuckling at the giggle that the toddler had let out when his cheek had been kissed. “You finished the entire bowl! I think that you deserve to have a little dessert, hm? Well thank God that your Pai isn’t here...” He had winked at Dolores as he had stood up and had hoisted Junior onto his hip, putting the empty bowl and dirty spoon away into the dishwasher before he had moved over to the cupboard which had held the few sweets he always had in stock.

Cristiano had, of course, not lied to him when he had told him, a couple of months ago, that he had not forced his diet onto his son, as Junior had been just a two-year-old, but Leo had been glad that he had not been the subject of one of his boyfriend’s scrutinising gaze in that moment. Junior had squeaked when he had been handed two chocolate chip cookies and Leo had kissed his cheek once again as he had sat back down with the toddler securely in his lap. The Argentine had picked his coffee cup up, trying not to pull a grimace at the fact that the coffee had merely been luke warm, and he had let out a vague sound of protest when Dolores had suddenly stood from where she had been sat opposite of him.

“I’ll be back in a second, docinho,” Cristiano’s mother had laughed, patting Leo’s cheek, “I just remembered that I brought something for you.” Leo had nodded and had looked down at Junior, who had been utterly content nibbling at the cookies. “So.” Dolores had sat back down with an exaggerated sigh, placing a white envelope on the table in front of her and had opened it while directing an almost mischievous smile at her son’s boyfriend, “I know that you’ll like to see them.”

The younger man had frowned, not really knowing what to expect from the envelope and he had hated the way that he had failed to keep himself from feeling a bit nervous, and he had looked up again when Dolores had put her chair a bit closer to his. At the sight of what she had been holding in her hands, Leo had gasped. “No way...”

“I promised you that I’d show them to you, didn’t I, docinho? Well here they are.”

Leo had let out what could have been a disbelieving laugh, shifting Junior on his lap a bit before he had reached out and had taken the photo that Dolores had held out for him. It had shown Cristiano at maybe five years old, holding Elma’s hand... dressed in a bright pink dress with matching flower hair clips in his hair and a pink clutch under his free arm. “Oh, he won’t be too happy about this,” he had laughed.

“He wasn’t too happy then either.” Dolores had passed him the next photo, which had apparently been taken just a few moments later. José, Elma, Katja and Hugo had all been lying on the floor, laughing, while Cristiano had been looking into the vague direction of the camera with tear-filled eyes and a pout that had been a perfect replica of the one Junior had naturally mastered, “Elma told him that he looked like the prettiest little princess and Cristiano got _very mad_ when he heard that.”

“Can I keep them?”

The question had escaped Leo before he could have considered that asking a mother to give up a photo of her son had been rather shameless, but Dolores had laughed and had nodded, not giving Leo a chance to row back, “Of course, docinho. That’s why I brought them.”

Sure, Dolores _had_ promised that she would show him some of Cristiano’s most embarassing childhood photos but if he would have been honest, he had not really expected to see them because neither of them had mentioned for quite a few months. “Look,” he had said with a stage whispers, pointing at the photo, “look niño, it’s your Pai!”

“Pai?”

“Yeah, that’s your Pai.”

Junior had giggled and had shaken his head, his curls bouncing, “Nooo Pai, no Pai, Leo!”

“It’s him,” Leo had laughed. He had pressed a kiss into Junior’s curls, “Isn’t he a pretty little princess, cariño?”

“Pwincess!” Out of the sudden, Leo’s heart had swelled until it had trippled in size and he had pulled the two-year-old closer against him and had begun to pepper his cheek with kisses which had made Junior squeal and giggle in delight and Dolores watch them with an openly enamoured look on her face.

“You are too precious for your own sake, niño,” Leo had muttered, laughing himself at the way that the two-year-old had giggled and had reached back to wrap an arm around his neck. He had missed how Dolores had pulled out her phone for the second time that day to snap a photo of him and Junior. “I love you.” It had only been when the toddler had squirmed and had made grabby hands at his leftover cookie where he had placed it earlier that Leo had stopped and had merely resumed to comb a hand through Junior’s hair, “Thank you for coming to see me, Dolores.”

Cristiano’s mother had clicked her tongue and had emptied the remaining bit of her coffee, “Don’t mention it, docinho, Junior and I love to be here. We both missed you.” The younger man had smiled back at her, unable, for what had to be the hundredth time, to believe that he had gotten so lucky.

_**El Clásico, 02. April 2016.** _

The tension and disappointment that had seemed to fill out the air of the Blaugrana locker room had almost been palpable. Against all odds and expectations, they had ended up losing at home. It had been a tight 1-2 loss, but a loss at the end of the day and while Leo had almost collapsed onto his seat on the bench and had dropped his head into his hands, his friends and teammates had not even tried to stay calm. Shin guards had been thrown into lockers, shoes had been kicked off and empty water bottles had been thrown across the room. As the captain of the team it would have been Andrés’ job to stay calm and collected, but Leo had been the only one who had been sitting there in silence as he had tried to come to terms with the loss he really had not seen coming while the others had voiced their anger out in the meantime.

“Of course it had to be Cristiano _fucking_ Ronaldo!” Luis’ snarl as well as the fact that the older man had slammed the door of his locker shut had made Leo flinch and he had looked up at his friend almost wearily, trying to ignore the burning that had come up in the corners of his eyes, “Of course it had to be that fucking son of a bitch, fuck! Did y’all see how fucking smug he looked? How he looked at _Leo_ after he scored? God I hate that asshole!”

Leo had swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and had averted his gaze back onto his hands. Even though Luis had been a close friend of his for many years, Leo yet had to tell him about Cristiano’s and his relationship which had been going on for well over a year by then. He would have liked to tell him, as he had felt like he had been betraying his friend, but Luis had never beaten around the bush with his hate towards the Portuguese and Leo had not the slightest of ideas about how he could have broken the news to him and in that moment, it had burdened him more than it had done it in quite a while. He had felt Gerard looking at him and while the Catalan had been in a similar situation than his own, it had been of little consolation to him right then. Wiping at his face with a quick and rather rough motion, Leo had stood up from where he had been sat and had taken his jersey off before he had put a foot onto the bench and had begun to unlace his shoes. He had not needed to turn around to know that the hand which had come to rest in the small of his back had belonged to Gerard.

By the time that Leo had made his way to the showers, only Gerard and Neymar had been left in the room with him and Neymar had caught him by the elbow just as he had been about to disappear into the showers, “Are you seeing Ronaldo tonight or-”

“Yeah,” had been all that Leo had retorted and he had mustered a small smile directed at his best friends before he had closed, and locked, the door behind him with a sigh. He had let out another, weary sigh as he had turned on the shower and had stood under the stream, allowing the water to just wash over him and while he had told himself that he had not been crying, the way that he had tasted saltiness on his lips had left no room for interpretation. Even after all those years, Leo had still hated losing.

He had known that it probably should not have dragged him down like that. Antonella had told him that quite a lot, especially back when he still had more troubles with throwing up whenever he had been put under too much strain and stress. Leo had simply stood there in the shower for a while until he had managed to gather enough mental strength to reach for his shampoo bottle. The fact that he would be able to spend the night with his Cristiano had been what had, figuratively speaking, kept him upright, even if it had been his boyfriend who had scored the winning goal and had brought his team the loss. The prospect of seeing his boyfriend in private had motivated Leo to hurry a bit with his shower, and his stomach had clenched when he had checked his phone and had found two texts from Cristiano, the last one having been delivered almost ten minutes ago.

 _Cristiano:_ [Bebê, I parked on the staff parking lot. Can’t wait to see you! ❤️😘]

 _Cristiano:_ [Is everything okay? 👀]

Leo had let out a shaky sigh. [Sorry, I’ll be there in a few minutes :-)] God, he had hoped that Cristiano would not be cross with him because he would definitely break down if that would be the case and Leo had felt the familiar feeling of uneasiness in his stomach when he he had put his phone down and had stared at the screen. He still had not changed his wallpaper, it had sill been the photo which Cristiano had send him, the mirror selfie in which both Cristiano and Junior had grinned wide enough to make Leo smile whenever he had looked at it. He had let out a breath he had not been aware of having held on when Cristiano’s answer had followed a moment later.

 _Cristiano:_ [That’s okay, I’ll wait 😘]

A faint smile had grown on Leo’s smile as he had taken his necklace out from where he had hid it away in the inside pocked of his gym bag after he had gotten dressed and had hung it back around his neck, making sure that it had been fully hidden underneath his hoodie before he had pulled the hood onto his head. He had worn it daily, without a few exceptions, ever since Cristiano had given it to him. Leo just had been sentimental like that.

Grabbing his gym bag, he had left the changing room and had headed for the staff parking lot through the back exit as quickly as he could have done it without being too obvious, assuring himself that his face had been hidden underneath the hood of the oversized grey hoodie he had chosen to wear so that he had been in no danger of being recognised and identified all that easily. His heart had somersaulted when he had spotted what he had spotted the Mercedes, which he had known had been Cristiano’s rental car, in the far back of the parking lot. With his smile turning into a grin, he had quickly put his gym bag into the trunk before he had opened the passenger door and had plopped down onto the seat beside Cristiano, “I’m sorry that I-”

Obviously not minding the location that they had been at, maybe because it had been dark outside, Cristiano had cupped Leo’s face and had pulled the younger man into a kiss, greeting him with that instead of a simple hello and Leo had practically melted into it, bringing his hands up to rest them on Cristiano’s forearms. His boyfriend had not let go of him, had instead kept his face in his hands as he had begun to pepper Leo’s face with little kisses, making him laugh. If it would not have been for the fact that they had been sitting in the car, Leo already could have forgotten all about the lost game. He had been too much in love. “Are you okay? Piqué and Neymar left a while ago.”

The Portuguese had brushed a thumb over the corner of Leo’s mouth, his eyes roaming over his boyfriend’s face. The younger man had huffed a laugh, “It would be better if you wouldn’t have scored.”

“Well, I can’t say that I’m sorry for that,” Cristiano had said with a snort, leaning over to press another kiss against Leo’s lips before he had started the car and had reversed out of the parking slot. He had put his right hand onto Leo’s thigh while Leo had made sure that he had kept his gaze firmly casted downwards and the hood pulled far into his face. He might have been sick and tired of their hiding game, but the day of the Clásico had been about the worst possible point of time to be exposed as a couple. Cristiano had muttered a string of curses under his breath when they had indeed passed by a few paparazzi that had lingered by the exit and he had given Leo’s thigh a squeeze as if to reassure him, to which Leo had responded with putting his hand on top of his boyfriend’s in return. “I promise that it won’t be like this forever,” Cristiano had muttered, so quietly that Leo almost had not heard it and because he had not know whether the other had actually wanted him to hear it, he had not answered and had instead scrolled through his Instagram feed.

They had not spoken much during the drive to his house. Leo had simply kept quiet because he had not wanted the past Clásico to stand between them and because the silence, which had only been disturbed by the low purring of the car’s engine, had been rather comfortable. He had since become used to not getting to see his boyfriend as much as he would have liked to, and so just being close to him had made up for the month and a half they had not seen each other in person. Getting to see Cristiano’s face over FaceTime had been better than nothing, but it had been no substitute for the real thing, of course. 

The closer they had come to his house, the more Leo had noticed how Cristiano had begun to relax at his side and he had squeezed the older man’s hand, having been reminded that it had not only been him who had wished for things to be different than how they had been at the moment. He had shifted in the passenger seat to lean over and kiss Cristiano’s cheek after the Portuguese had parked the rental car on Leo’s driveway, “I love you.”

Cristiano had turned his head and had caught Leo’s lips in another kiss that neither of them had tried to deepen, “I love you too, bebê.”

The two of them had gotten out of the car and Leo had unconsciously hugged his gym bag to his chest when he had looked around the dimly lit space of his driveway, suddenly feeling as if they had been watched and he had swallowed hard, giving himself a mental push as he had hurried to the front door to unlock it while Cristiano had gotten his own bags out of the trunk, trying to ignore the feeling of uneasiness that had collected in his stomach. He had made sure to not let it break through to the surface, however, as he had not wanted to ruin Cristiano’s and had moved on to the kitchen as soon as he had put his gym bag down and had kicked his shoes off to warm up the dinner he had cooked for them earlier that day.

Leo had been stirring in the pot when Cristiano had entered the kitchen, had yawned and had come to stand behind Leo, wrapping his arms around the shorter man and dropping his chin onto his shoulder to watch what his boyfriend had been doing. Leo had felt himself blushing at the domesticity of it. Oh, what he would have given to have it every day. “It’s spaghetti with ricotta, spinach and sun-dried tomatoes,” he had said even though Cristiano had not asked him.

The Portuguese had hummed, turning his head to nuzzle his face into the crook of Leo’s neck and place a little kiss there, “That sound good.” The way that Cristiano had apparently refused to let go of him had turned out to be a hindrance while Leo had worked at the stove, but he never would have dreamed to complain about his boyfriend’s sudden clinginess and had instead let out a quiet laugh when he had turned off the stove and had divided the pasta dish into two bowls before putting the empty pot into the sink to rinse it later. Cristiano had only removed his arms from around Leo once he had been offered one of the bowls and had needed both hands to carry it and a bottle of water, though he had not done so without kissing the younger man’s cheek in a wordless thank you before the two of them had moved on to the living room, where they had made themselves comfortable on the couch.

Leo had shifted into a cross-legged position and had placed his pasta bowl between his legs while Cristiano had grabbed the remote control from the coffee table and had turned the TV on, switching through the channels until he had landed on one that had shown a random wildlife documentary, and he had let out a quiet, content sigh. When he had looked over at Cristiano, he had almost done so almost a bit sheepishly. The Portuguese had since sprawled himself out on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, practically taking up as much space as he could have and in way that he could not have described it, the fact that his boyfriend had done just that had been comforting to Leo, who had moved until his knee had been pressed against Cristiano’s thigh.

“This is really good,” Cristiano had said around a mouthful of pasta, rolling his eyes in pretended annoyance at the proud smile that had grown on Leo’s face in return. “Don’t look so surprised, it’s not the first time you showed me that you’d make a perfect little housewife for me, bebê.” Feeling himself blush due to the wink that Cristiano had accompanied his words with, Leo had quickly turned his gaze down onto his bowl and had hurried to get another spoonful of pasta into his mouth just so that he would not be due to speak any time soon. Cristiano had chuckled to himself, it had been undeniable that he had enjoyed the fact that he had been able to make Leo blush even fifteen months into their relationship and the blush had manifested himself face when the Portuguese had looked at him for a good minute longer.

They had followed the documentary rather halfheartedly, as they had both been a bit exhausted from the game, and Leo had, as soon as Cristiano had been done with his dinner, found himself drawn into the familiar pair of strong arms for the second time that evening. He had let out a sound of protest since Cristiano doing so had almost resulted in him spilling the bit of pasta that he had left and had blindly put the bowl onto the coffee table, nearly missing it because his boyfriend had refused to let go of him. “I missed you bebê,” the Portuguese had whispered into his hair, shifting a bit so that he had been lying down with Leo on top of him. “So much.”

“I missed you too.”

Cristiano had hummed, had kissed the top of Leo’s head and had begun to move a hand over the younger man’s back in a way that had immediately caused him to turn into putty, something that Cristiano had acknowledged with a kiss into his hair. Leo had lived for peaceful moments like those; he had not doubt that the rest of the Real squad had been out celebrating and he had know better than to take it for granted that Cristiano had chosen to stay at home with instead of going out to celebrate with his friends. It had been after a few minutes that Leo’s heart had suddenly clenched and he had found himself blinking back unwanted and unexpected tears; Leo had forced them down even though they had been happy tears and had instead closed his eyes as he had focused on the feeling of Cristiano’s fingers trailing down the curve of his spine and combing through the soft hairs in the back of his neck.

The older man had clicked his tongue, “Don’t fall asleep, bebê.” While Leo had snorted, the older man had let out a baritone laugh and had reached in between them to gently take Leo’s chin into his hand and it would not have been an understatement if Leo would have said that he had been robbed of his his breath when he had looked up only to be met with a look that had caused arousal to seep right into his bones. Cristiano’s dark eyes had been burning into his and Leo had shifted a bit, unsure whether to meet his boyfriend’s gaze or to look at the lopsided smirk that had since grown on Cristiano’s face, but that decision had somewhat been made for him when Cristiano had brought his free hand to Leo’s backside and had given it quite a hard squeeze, making Leo gasp and had dropped his head onto Cristiano’s chest. He had bitten his lip when his backside had been squeezed a bit harder, the intend behind the action as clear as day. “Leo, bebê...”

“I have to clean up the kitchen first,” Leo had blurted it out before he had even thought about saying it and Cristiano had raised one of his perfectly plucked eyebrows in disbelief, resting both of his hands on Leo’s waist when the younger man had sat up with a stark red face, more than just a bit embarrassed by what he had said. “And-And the couch really isn’t all that comf-” He had been cut off by the kiss that Cristiano had pulled him into after he had sat up as well, had cupped his face and had had slotted their mouths together and Cristiano had instantly slid his tongue past Leo’s lips to swallow the sound of protest that Leo had made.

“Bebê...”

“Five minutes, okay? Just give me five minutes.” The older man had made a noncommittal sound and had pressed one last kiss against Leo’s lips before he had begun go place a little trail of kisses from the corner of Leo’s mouth down the side of his neck, knowing just which buttons he had needed to press to turn Leo into a whimpering mess and Leo had really needed to force himself to clamber off Cristiano’s lap with a pink face, “Five minutes.”

Leo had almost swayed on his feet when Cristiano had moaned and had dropped a hand to his crotch to rearrange the suddenly very prominent strain in his sweatpants while not taking his eyes off Leo, “Five minutes.” The baritone hint of Cristiano’s voice had made him shudder and he had given a smal nod in return before had had darted out of the room, trying to ignore his own arousal and the twitching of his cock.

“I have to clean up the kitchen first,” Leo had muttered to himself, snorthing about his own ridiculousness and his hands had actually been shaking as he had set out to rinse and scrub the cooking pot he had placed in the sink earlier. It definitely would have been ruined if he would have let it sit like that overnight and he had hurried to get the task done, not exactly keeping an eye on the clock on the wall but also pretty much counting the seconds in his head because he had been yearning to be in Cristiano’s arms... or writhing underneath him, really, and even though he had not kept a track of the time there had been no way that the five minutes had been over with before he had felt Cristiano’s presence behind him. Leo’s breath had hitched when Cristiano had sneaked his arms around his waist and had, gently, pulled him flush against him, turning the attention of his lips to Leo’s neck and pressing his erection into the small of Leo’s back.

“Bebê,” the Portuguese had breathed against the shorter man’s neck, letting his whisper be followed by a hint of teeth against a sensitive spot right underneath Leo’s jaw and Leo had moaned for the first time since the teasing touches had started, holding onto the edge of the countertop for purchase with his free hand. Cristiano had chuckled, had taken the sponge from Leo and had turned him around, shamelessly splaying his hands over Leo’s ass. “Upstairs, _now_.”

Even if Leo would have wanted to protest, he would have failed to do so because Cristiano had simply used the hold he had on his ass to hoist him up and carry him out of the kitchen as if he had waited nothing, making him gasp. Leo had wrapped his arms around Cristiano’s neck and his legs around his waist to make himself easier to carry. A strangled sound had escaped both of their throats when their cocks had brushed together and Cristiano had been close to stumbling up the stairs in order to reach the bedroom as quickly as he possibly could have done it, and Leo had let out a rather high pitched giggle when he had been downright thrown onto his bed, landing with a gasp.

Cristiano had wasted no time, getting rid of his hoodie as he had climbed onto the king-sized bed to tower over Leo and smirk down at his boyfriend with unmasked arousal burning behind the brown of his eyes. Leo had shuddered and had merely raised his arms in compliance when Cristiano had grabbed the hem of his hoodie and had pulled it over his head, running a hand over the then available skin while dropping the other to the waistband of Leo’s trousers and he had traced it for a moment in a way that had left the younger man whimpering and squirming. Due to the surgery and the weeks he had spend convalescing they had not slept with each other since Cristiano’s birthday back in February and Leo had been almost dying to feel more of his boyfriend’s hands on him, which had been just why he had not even tried to muffle the whimpers and wanton little moans that Cristiano had elicited from him by stroking a thumb over his nipples.

Cristiano had hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of Leo’s sweatpants and underwear but had, instead of tugging them down right away, leaned over to place a wet kiss right over Leo’s left nipple, where the pendant of the necklace had come to rest. Leo had not thought about taking it off beforehand and if he would have judged by the way that Cristiano had looked at it, at his name written in white gold, it had not been a mistake. He had sighed, a bit in relief, when he had eventually been freed of his sweatpants and underwear within a few seconds. “Fuck,” the older man had said as a whispered moan, moving backwards on all fours to be able to kiss Leo’s neck and make his way down his chest.

He had taken a hold of Leo’s thighs with strong hands as he had brushed his lips over the pendant, “Look at you, bebê.” Leo had whined, louder that time. His body had arched off the bed on its own accord and Cristiano had chuckled when Leo had tried to reach the waistband of his sweatpants but had failed to do so because his arms were much too short, “Patience, bebê, patience.” It had been a ridiculous thing to say, considering that it had been the Portuguese who had apparently ready to take his boyfriend on the couch in the living room downstairs, but Leo had done little more than roll his eyes and huff in annoyance as he had been well aware of the power he had over Cristiano in return. “I’ll fuck you soon enough.” Cristiano had looked up from where he had been placing random little kisses against the inside of Leo’s thighs, clearly expecting an answer, and a lopsided grin had grown on Leo’s face when Cristiano’s brows had pulled together, “Leo, bebê.”

Merely continuing to grin at his boyfriend, Leo had squealed a laugh when Cristiano had moved back up and had kissed him from one second to another, claiming Leo’s mouth by pushing his tongue past his lips and swallowing the moan that had been triggered by it. Cristiano had cocked an eyebrow after he had pulled back and Leo had blushed to a darker shade of red. Instead of saying something, he had blindly reached up and underneath one of the pillows to retrieve the bottle of lube he had put there earlier as he had hoped that they would end up in the postition that they had been in right then, holding it out for Cristiano to take it.

The Portuguese had laughed out loud and had pressed another kiss onto Leo’s lips before he had taken the bottle from his boyfriend, sitting back onto his heels. Leo had felt his eyes widen, and his cock stirr in anticipation, at the sight of the impressive tent in Cristiano’s sweatpants. His gaze had been practically glued onto Cristiano’s body when the Portuguese had gotten off the bed to undress himself for good and Leo _really_ had to restrain himself to not make grabby hands at him to save the last bit of his dignity, rolling over onto his stomach to watch Cristiano from over his shoulder. He had given his hips a teasing little shake and had smiled to himself when the older man had moaned and had tugged at his flagged cock, looking away when Cristiano had kicked his underwear off.

A rather loud moan had slipped over Leo’s lips at the smack that Cristiano had given him and he had been compliant as ever when he had been grabbed by the waist and hoisted onto his hip so that he been in their preferred position. He had heard the sound of the bottle’s lid being opened a few mere seconds before he had felt a slick finger rubbing broad circles over his hole. Leo had arched his back a bit more when it had been pushed into him, gasping from both the sensation of it and the kiss that Cristiano had placed in the small of his back, “Eu te amo muito, bebê.”

“Love you too.”

Cristiano had straightened a bit, Leo had been able to tell that when the mattress had dipped behind him, and a second finger had been pushed into him at the same time that Cristiano had planted his free hand in the small of Leo’s back to keep him in place. It had only been later on that Leo had noticed how Cristiano had almost not dared to touch the scars on his flanks, which had still stood out on his pale skin due to the pink shade they would lose once the skin would have healed for good, but in the state of arousal that he had been in Leo had only gasped when Cristiano had, carefully, stroked each scar once. The Portuguese had definitely taken the fact that they had not done this for a while into consideration, because he had taken his time to make sure that Leo had been prepared enough opposed to how he had just fucked him in the jacuzzi the last time that they had been together like this.

Leo had since lowered himself onto his forearms and had dropped his head onto one of them, his eyes closed and his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he had basked in the feeling of Cristiano’s fingers slowly working him open. It had been good but far from enough and he had moaned softly when his boyfriend’s hand had disappeared from the small of his back and had nudged his legs a bit wider apart. The bit of embarrassment which had come up at the way that he had been fully exposed had been overpowered by the surge of arousal that had shot through his body when a third finger had entered him. Cristiano had let out a hoarse laugh at the way that Leo’s body had been rocked forwards when he had crooked his fingers and had rubbed them against the younger man’s prostate in well-practiced circles before he had pulled them out with an obscene squelch, giving Leo’s ass another smack with his clean hand.

He had shuffled a bit closer and had spread lube out over his fully errected cock with languid strokes, squeezing one of Leo’s backside cheeks. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful bebê.” Leo had moaned into the crook of his arm when Cristiano had tapped the tip of his cock with his relaxed opening prior to aligning it with his hole and had begun to thrust into him with a slow and steady pace, running his hands over Leo’s side in an appreciating manner. “So perfect for me, sempre tão perfeito.” Since he had been prepped exceptionally well, the feeling of being stretched out like that had not been painful or uncomfortable at all and Cristiano had given a moan from behind Leo when he had been fully seated inside of him, his pelvis pressed against Leo’s ass, “Fuck, como pode alguém ser tão perfeito... Você está bem? Bebê, are you okay?”

He had kept a hand on the younger man’s waist and had moved the other up the curve of Leo’s back to splay it in his neck, giving a squeeze there as a gesture of comfort and Leo had nodded. “Yeah,” the Argentine had breathed after a short pause, forcing his body to stay relaxed around Cristiano’s cock that has filled him out so perfectly as if it had been made to fit inside of him. “I’m good, I’m good. I’m good.”

Cristiano had squeezed his neck once more before he had straightened again and had grabbed onto Leo’s waist with both hands, slowly pulling out until only the tip of his cock had remained past the ring of muscle. He had paused for a second or two prior to thrusting into him again, more vigour behind his movements that time and Cristiano had quickly found his rhythm, fucking Leo with slow, though hard, and well-angled thrusts. The sound of skin hitting skin had soon filled out the bedroom and Leo’s mind had been so clouded by arousal that he had not perceived how Cristiano had shifted and had, without faltering in his chosen rhythm, wrapped an arm around him and had flipped him over onto his back, causing him to gasp in surprise.

Leo had whimpered when he had then been able to look up into his boyfriend’s face again and the sight of it had robbed him of his breath and his ability to form a coherent sentence, leaving him to stare at Cristiano. If it would have been possible, there surely would have been love hearts in his eyes. _Good God, how can anyone be so fucking perfect,_ he had thought and he had opened his mouth to voice that thought but Cristiano had _growled_ , had slid a hand into his hair and had pulled his head back before he had kissed him, sloppily and with broad strokes of his tongue, both which had left Leo unable to do more than whimper, open his mouth and comply. His boyfriend had fucked him him in the same manner that he had acted on the pitch earlier - a bit ruthless, focused on the task as if there had been nothing else in the world but instead of the goal it had been his own pleasure as well as Leo’s and the younger man had whined into the kiss that had not seemed to end, his thighs trembling where he had kept his legs loosely wrapped around Cristiano’s waist.

“Fuck,” Leo had breathed, “Cris, _fu-uck_ ,” his words blending into a high-pitched and undeniably desperate whine that Cristiano had simply swallowed with another kiss. He may have been a bit overwhelmed by the way that his boyfriend had hit his prostate with each and every thrust, but he had loved it. Cristiano had muttered something that Leo would not have understand even if he would not have spoken in Portuguese as he had placed wet and open-mouthed kisses all over Leo’s neck and chest, closing his lips around random spots of skin every then and there and while he had sucked hard enough to make him mewl, he had not left a single bruise behind. “ _Cri-is_ , Papi-”

The older man had huffed a breathless laugh, licking a stripe up the curve of Leo’s neck. His hips had never faltered in their ever-repeating motion of fucking his boyfriend. “Yeah bebê,” he had purred, easing the hold he had on Leo’s hair to comb through it once before he had cupped his hand against Leo’s face and had pressed the pad of his thumb against the younger man’s lips, “that’s what I like to hear, you always sound so good when I’m fucking you.” Leo’s eyes had fallen shut and he had turned his head as much as Cristiano’s hand had allowed him to do so, his face burning from embarrassment and arousal alike but he had been forced to look up at his boyfriend again when Cristiano had taken his chin and had tilted his head back. “No hiding, bebê.”

“I-I’m not hiding.” A shudder had moved through Leo’s body at an especially hard thrust against his prostate and he had brought his arms up to wrap them around Cristiano’s neck out of reflex and with what had felt like the last bit of strength he had left, sensing that his orgasm had been close and inevitable. “I love you,” he had managed to choke out, his breathing coming in quick pants.

“Eu te amo mais do que tudo, Leo, não posso ficar sem você nunca mais.” Utterly unable to get another word out, Leo had lasted two more of Cristiano’s perfectly angled thrusts before his body had convulsed around Cristiano’s cock and he had come with a moan that had sounded rather like a choked sob and had been muffled by the kiss Cristiano had initiated. “That’s it bebê, that’s it,” his boyfriend had muttered, aware that Leo had not really been able to hear him over to sound of blood rushing in his ears, “look at you, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Leo had let out a small gasp when Cristiano had released himself inside of him a couple of second later and had moaned against his lips, a sound that had made Leo want to burst into tears from pure bliss because he had been the one who had gotten to witness Cristiano like that. They had continued to kiss as they had rode out the waves of their orgasms, wet, obscene kisses that would have made him blush if he would not have just experienced a truly mind-blowing orgasm and a he had moaned hoarsely when Cristiano had pulled his softening cock out, he had been so sensitive that even that friction had caused a tremble to move through his body and he had heard his boyfriend chuckling where he had collapsed onto the mattress beside him.

Leo had simply kept his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of the aftershocks of his orgasm and Cristiano’s hand combing through his sweaty hair, brushing it back from his forehead, for the moment. He had smiled when Cristiano had turned onto his side and had leaned over to kiss a corner of his mouth, “I love you, por favor, nunca se esqueça disso.” Leo had hummed, not really able to answer, but had turned his head to offer his lips up for a somewhat more proper kiss that neither he not Cristiano had tried to deepen, as they had both been positively spend before the Portuguese and had disappeared into the bathroom clean himself up and get a cloth for Leo.

The younger man had turned over onto his stomach after his boyfriend had cleaned him off with a few quick wipes of the cloth and had sighed in content, resting his cheeks on his crossed arms. He had only opened his eyes when Cristiano had traced the curve of his spine with a languid finger as he had rounded the bed to get onto his side again. The Portuguese had pressed a quick kiss onto Leo’s shoulder before he had plopped down onto his back with a groan, “Fuck, what would I give to get to do that every day.”

“Mhm.”

Cristiano had snorted and had looked at the younger man, a terribly smug grin on his face, “I’m that good, yeah? Ha, I always knew it.”

Leo had rolled his eyes, “You wish you were, I was just enjoying the silence,” and had hummed when Cristiano had moved a hand down the curve of his back before he had splayed it over his ass, not squeezing or dipping into the crease, just resting it there as if to prove a point, as if the necklace had not told enough. He had arched his back a little to push his ass into the palm of Cristiano’s hand, “But yeah, that would be nice.”

Cristiano had given his ass a little squeeze, “It’ll be like that someday, bebê. We won’t have to do this forever, I promise you that.” He had brought his hand to Leo’s neck then to give it a reassuring squeeze as well, “I love you too much to keep you hidden away, Leo. You deserve more, you deserve so much more than this...”

Raising onto his forearms to be able to get a proper look at his boyfriend, Leo had kept quiet for a few seconds as he had thought about what to say. “This is enough,” he had eventually answered with a low voice, and he had meant it. It had been enough. More than enough, actually. It may not have been perfect, but he had Cristiano as well as Junior and Dolores in his life and how could that not have been enough? Leo had smiled, “It’s enough for me, Cristiano.”

Other than he had expected, Cristiano had not tried to argue with him about what he had said and had instead only brought up a hand to cup it against his face. The Portuguese had brushed a thumb over Leo’s slightly swollen bottom lip, and the two of them had looked at each other in silence. “I have something for you,” he had said as he had pulled his hand back and had climbed off the bed yet again, walking over to where he had put his bags after he had brought them upstairs. Leo had watched him move across the room, a faint blush spreading out over his face when he had been able to look at Cristiano in all of his glory. The sight of immaculate tanned skin stretched out over chiseled muscles had almost been mesmerising to him.

Cristiano, who had obviously noticed how Leo’s gaze had been glued onto him, had turned around and had smirked at him, a hint of arousal flashing behind his eyes and his boyfriend had laughed when Leo had groaned and had dropped his head onto the nearest pillow. “Adorable,” he had chirped, “and with a great ass, what more could I want?”

“Fuck you.”

Cristiano had merely cocked an eyebrow and had, once he had found what he had been looking for, climbed on top of Leo to nuzzle his face into the side of Leo’s neck, making the younger man gasp. He had left a couple of kisses there before he had shuffled over to the part of the king-sized bed that had since become his and had showed Leo just what it had been that he had gotten from his back. Leo had frowned at the sight of the folded piece of paper that his boyfriend had held out between to finger and he had taken it almost hesitatingly, not knowing what to expect from it. Cristiano had not tried to hide the way that he had been watching him closely, slowly breaking out into a smile when Leo had laughed, “Junior drew it for you, bebê.” 

Leo had turned the piece of paper so that it had the right way round; the colourful scribbling had left no doubt that Cristiano’s two-year-old son had done them on his own and his heart had done a somersault when he had read the short note that had obviously been written by Cristiano and not the toddler. _Hi Leo, I just want to let you know that I love and miss you soooo much! <3 Junior._

“Thank you,” the younger man had whispered, telling himself that there had not been a lump in his throat and he had folded the drawing back up to set it aside on his nightstand. “I’ll definitely hang it up.” He had been about to lean over and kiss Cristiano when he had perceived his phone ringing underneath one of the piles of clothes that had been strewn around his bedroom and while he had frozen in his movements and had considered to retrieve it, Cristiano had cupped his face and had kissed him. The Portuguese had apparently not been happy by the prospect of Leo getting out of bed and since he had known just how to kiss him, Leo had forgotten about the phone within an instant and had allowed himself to be pulled on top of his boyfriend.

When the phone had rung yet again, however, and not even five seconds after it had stopped, Leo had wriggled out of Cristiano’s hold and had hurried to try and find it under the clothes, deliberately ignoring the whistle that his boyfriend had made from behind him when he had bend down to pick his phone up. He had frowned when he had spotted Luis’ name on the screen and the uneasy feeling, which had collected in the pit of his stomach, had increased to a tenfold as he had accepted the call and had put it on speaker. Luis usually had not called him, had preferred to text him more than anything, “Luis?”

“Are you serious, Leo? Are you _fucking_ serious?”

Suddenly uncomfortable with his nakedness, Leo had set his phone aside and had grabbed the nearest piece of clothing, Cristiano’s hoodie, hurrying to put it on with trembling hands, “I-I don’t know what-”

“So when did you plan on telling me that you’re all best friends with Ronaldo now, hm? You know what, I wouldn’t even be surprised anymore if I’d find out that you’re fucking with him on the side too.” While Leo had been used to Luis’ mood swings and the way that his friend had tend to be insufferable for quite some time after a loss, he had still flinched and had, without looking at Cristiano, sat down on the edge of the bed. His stomach had clenched in fear, if there had been photos of them together... “So now you’re not saying anything about this, Leo? _Seriously?_ You told me that you wouldn’t be free tonight - okay, I got that, but I _never_ would’ve thought that you’d ever ditch _me_ to hang out with _Ronaldo_ instead. Seriously? Cristiano _fucking_ Ronaldo? Leo, man, you can’t tell me that you forget about everything the bastard did, not to mention what he _said_ about you. That’s not possible.”

Leo had blinked hard. He had needed to swallow twice before he had managed to find his voice again, “Luis, I-”

“Is that motherfucker still there or are you alone?”

His chin had trembled, and he had tried to hide it by rubbing a hand over his face. He had felt the mattress dipping behind him and had immediately leaned back and against his boyfriend when Cristiano had moved to sit behind him. The Portuguese had wrapped his arms around him, pressing a lingering kiss into Leo’s hair that had made him want to cry. “He’s still here,” Leo had said after quite a long pause and he had needed to keep himself from whimpering when Cristiano’s arms had tightened around him, “we... we have to talk, Luis.”

“Oh really, suddenly we have to?” Luis had scoffed at the other end of the line, letting out a humourless laugh, “I’m coming over.”

“Luis no, listen-”

“I’ll be at your place in ten minutes and for Ronaldo’s sake I hope that he’s gone by the time I’m there!”

The call had been ended without another word and Leo had been left staring at his phone a bit helpless, tears burning in his eyes. His breath had hitched with the sob he had failed to hinder from escaping and he had thrown himself against Cristiano, who had immediately gathered him into his arms that had felt like a safe haven to Leo in that very moment. “Shhh,” Cristiano had whispered, pressing little kisses into Leo’s hair while he had moved a hand over his trembling back, “it’s okay, bebê.”

Leo had shaken his head, “I-I’m sorry, if I would’ve known that there would be photos of us you wouldn’t have needed to come-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” his boyfriend had cut him off. Cristiano had leaned back to get a look of Leo’s face, “That’s a stupid thing to say, we don’t even know what photos they managed to get and I would’ve come to see you anyway. Você é mais importante para mim do que qualquer imprensa poderia se.”

Leo had let out a small sound of surprise because he, truth be told, had expected Cristiano to lose his calm. It had had only been a matter of time until they would be exposed but there had not even been so much as a hint of fear or nervousness in Cristiano’s voice while his heart had beaten so strongly he had felt it in his throat, and he had blindly unlocked his phone before he had handed it over to his boyfriend in a silent request for him to search for those tale-telling photos and had stood up from Cristiano’s lap to begin and pick up the clothes. He had exchanged Cristiano’s Real hoodie with one of his Barça ones, even though he would have liked to continue wearing his boyfriend’s hoodie. He had known that Luis would not ever hit him but he had also known better than to provoke him any more.

At the snort that Cristiano had let out from behind him, Leo had almost whirled around, blindly pulling up his sweatpants to fasten it around his waist, “Are they bad? I-I’ll call my father right now if they are.”

The wave of relief that had swept over him when Cristiano had shaken his head had almost been strong enough to have him swaying where he had been standing and he had let out a sigh of relief when Cristiano, upon having stood up, had hugged him yet again, closing his arms around Cristiano’s upper body in return. He had not been ashamed of his relationship, nor his sexuality at that, but he would have liked to have a bit more time to think about how he would like to come out before it would actually be the case.

“They’re nothing bebê, I don’t understand why Suárez is losing his mind like that.” If Leo would not have been so upsat, he would have made out the hint of anger in Cristiano’s voice. The Portuguese had not been too happy with the things that Suárez had thrown at his boyfriend’s head, but he had tried to hide his displeasure for Leo’s sake, “Really, they say nothing.” Cristiano had kept an arm wrapped around Leo as he had shown him the photos. They had been taken on Leo’s driveway, their quality less than ideal due to the fact that it had been dark outside, and had merely shown them getting out of Cristiano’s rental car and making their way to the front door, giving no other implication that the two of them had come to friendly terms with each other. Leo had let out a breath he had not been aware of having held in, and had allowed his eyes to stay closed when Cristiano had kissed his forehead twice.

Leo had felt physically sick as he had paced up and down the corridor by the front door, waiting for Luis to arrive, and he had absentmindedly worried his bottom lip between his teeth so much that it had since begun to throb and sting. Cristiano had promised him that he would stay upstairs and not make an appearance unless Leo would call for him to come down just so that the risk of the already tense situation escalating would be minimised and while Leo had known that it had been for the better, and that he really had nothing to fear from Luis, he would have liked Cristiano to be right by his side and to hold his hand simply to have something to hold onto and take his anxiety away. He had not wanted to lose Luis as his friend, as his _close friend_ and he had been well aware that the Uruguayan’s anger had not actually been directed at him but at Cristiano, considering how Luis had never bothered to beat around the bush with his aversion to the Portuguese.

If it would come down to it, Leo had thought, he would have to choose Cristiano’s side over Luis’ and distance himself from his friend and teammate, despite the trouble that such a grave decision would cause for him. Luis had been his friend, Cristiano had been his family.

Leo had just moved a tired hand over his face when the anticipated and very much dreaded ring of the doorbell had resounded throughout the lower floor of his house and he had needed to swallow hard, steadying himself with a deep breath as he had set out to open it. He had barely kept himself from wincing when he had inevitably come face to face with a rather unamused looking Luis. “Hey,” Leo had whispered, but Luis had only glared at him before he had stalked right past him and into the direction of the kitchen without waiting to be invited in first and Leo had quietly closed the front door behind him, pausing for a moment.

By the time that he had joined his friend in the kitchen, Luis had already gotten himself a bottle of water from the fridge and had sat down by the kitchen table. “So,” the older man had said after a moment of uncomfortable silence had passed, “how did it happen that you and Ronaldo become friends, hm? And where is he anyway? Did he leave?”

“He’s upstairs,” Leo had answered, his voice still not raised above the whisper it had been earlier. The two friends had fallen silence once more and just so that he had not needed to look at Luis, Leo had fumbled with the hem of the tea towel which had laid folded beside the sink while he had tried to come up with something to say that could have nullified the tension between them.

Luis has snorted and had taken a zestful sip from the water bottle, if Leo would have looked at him he would have seen how he had been clenching his jaw shut in an attempt to keep himself under control. “Jesus, Leo, would you tell me already.”

“Luis...”

“Are you sure that he’s not just doing this to hurt you? That he’s trying to find out something that he can use to hurt you in the end, in one way or another? Is this the first time that he’s here? Did he talk you into allowing him to come?”

“Luis-”

“ _Luis, Luis, Luis_ ,” the Uruguayan had snapped and while he had not slammed the bottle of water down onto the table, he had put it down with more force that would have been either necessary or appropriate, causing the dishes to clirr and Leo to flinch, “dammit Leo, can’t you see that I’m just worried about what could happen to you? It’s _Ronaldo_ we’re talking about! You can’t tell me that you didn’t notice how he _glared_ at you on the pitch, that fucking bastard.”

“I-”

“You’re my friend, hell you’re one of my best friends and I don’t want to see you getting hurt by an idiot that’s _pretending_ to be your friend so that he can get close enough to get a hit at you! You know that he wouldn’t hesitate to do it!”

What had caused Leo to tear up had not been what Luis had said, but the way that the tone of his friend’s voice had changed from angry to pleading and he had turned around to wipe at the tears that had claimed their way down his face, not quite able to believe that he had found himself in a situation like this one and a sob had escaped him before he could have suppressed it. He had brought his hands up to hide his face in them. Luis, who obviously had not expecred the emotional outburst, had gasped, standing up from where he had been sitting to move over to Leo.

There had been the sound of rapid footfalls coming down the stairs before Luis’ hand had even come to rest on Leo’s shoulder. “Get away from him, Suárez. Right now.” Cristiano’s voice had been sharp and cutting and yet still controlled, slicing through the tension that had almost been palpable, “Leave him alone, I’m not joking around.” Leo had let out another cut-off sob but had stayed facing away from the scene, as he had not been all to sure that he had been able to watch the way that his friend and his boyfriend had been verbally circling each other like animals, ready to lunge at each other at any given second. He had not wanted it to go like that.

Luis had let out a loud, humourless laugh that had filled Leo’s chest with dread, “Jesus, this is better than any movie I ever watched. You want _me_ to leave him alone? He’s like that because of you, what the fuck are you even still doing here? Fuck off, there’s no reason for you to stay.” The Uruguayan had brought a hand to rest it on Leo’s shoulder, squeezing gently as if to reassure Leo, who had suppressed the urge to shrug it off and bolt out of the kitchen. Cristiano had narrowed his eyes and had glared at Luis, or rather at the hand that the other had kept on Leo’s shoulder, “This has nothing to do with you, Ronaldo.”

Cristiano had snorted just as humourlessly, “So if this has nothing to do with me why were you just about to give Leo a scolding for spending time with me?”, and if Leo could have mustered the strength to turn around, he would have seen how Cristiano had been clenching his hands into fists where they had been hanging by his sides. “That’s why you’re here in the first place, Suárez, don’t be ridiculous. If it wouldn’t be for me you wouldn’t have come.”

“I’m not here for _you_ , you arrogant piece of shit, I’m here because Leo apparently forgot just who you are and what you’ve done in the past. Don’t be so full of yourself, _Cristiano_.”

“Don’t,” Leo had tried to intervene with a pleading whisper, but it had turned out to have been too quiet of a sound for the either of them to catch it. “Please don’t...”

“You should watch what you’re saying.” It had been the fact that Cristiano had pressed those words out through his teeth that had eventually forced Leo to turn around and reveal his tear-strewn face because he had know know when he had last, when he had _ever_ heard his boyfriend so openly enraged.

Luis had let out what could have been a sound of disbelief, “I don’t understand what your problem is, Ronaldo. Just take your things and leave, I bet Ramos is already out there looking for his _best bro_.”

“I definitely won’t leave and allow you to talk to my boyfriend like that! Se o Leo não estivesse aqui eu bateria em você, seu pedaço de merda!”

The room had fallen silence and for a good few seconds Leo had been able to watch multiple emotions flash over Luis’ face, ranging from anger, bewilderment, shock and, eventually, sheer disbelief about what Cristiano had blurted out. “Your... what?” The look of disbelief had not vanished from Luis’ face, not even after Leo had whispered his name once, and the Argentine had involuntarily winced when his friend had slowly turned his head to look at him, so as if he had just betrayed him in the worst possible way, “You’re his _what?_ ”

“I-I didn’t want you to find out like-”

“Stop it, you don’t have to justify yourself,” Cristiano had interrupted Leo with a voice that had been much more gentle than it had been mere minutes ago, and he had taken the younger by the wrist to pull him close and wrap him up in his arms. Leo had only noticed how much he had been trembling when Cristiano had put a hand between his shoulder blades in an attempt to calm him down, rubbing his back while the silence that had hovered over their heads had threatened to suffocate him.

“Tell him to go.” Twisting around in Cristiano’s arms, Leo had looked at his friend and he had not been all that surprised that there had not longer been a hint of anger in either Luis’ voice or on his face, if all Luis had looked as if he had been seconds away from collapsing onto the kitchen floor, “Tell him to go, I want to talk to you alone.”

Leo had looked at Luis for a moment longer, only turning back around to face Cristiano after his boyfriend had placed a small kiss onto his cheek. “I’ll be upstairs, bebê,” the Portuguese had whispered into his ear and had removed his arms from around Leo, not leaving the kitchen without kissing him and glaring at Luis once more. There had been no mistaking in the way that Cristiano would definitely not make the first step.

Leo had heard Luis walk through the kitchen after Cristiano had disappeared out of sight and the Uruguayan had plopped down onto the chair he had been sitting in earlier with a loud huff, shaking his head as he had looked at him and Leo had felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. He had not moved away from where he had stood leaned against the countertop, his hands clutching at its edge. “I’m sorry,” he had whispered, “I-I wanted to tell you but... not like this.”

Luis had merely continued to stare at him for a moment longer and Leo had averted his gaze to the floor, trying to ignore how his face had burned with shame, “How long has it been going on? Jesus, Leo...”

“Almost fifteen months.”

“Fifteen mo-” Luis had cut himself off and had instead shaken his head, “So you’ve been fucking with Ronaldo since _last year_ and I have to find it out like this? Through paparazzi photos?”

“Do you think it’s easy for me?” Leo had retorted with more bite behind it than he had originally intended to do it, “Do you think it’s easy for us to hide it _all the time?!_ If wish it would be!”, and had found himself blinking back stubborn tears that blurred his vision.

Luis’ gaze had softened. The older man had leaned back into his chair before he had stood up and had come to stand beside Leo. “I’m sorry,” he had said, “I didn’t meant to talk to you like that I just... well, you and Ronaldo...”

Leo had laughed and had wiped at the tears that had escaped his eyes, “I know,” he had muttered, looking down at his wet palms rather than at his friend. “I’ve heard it a lot.”

“Who else knows?” If there had been an accusing tone in Luis’ voice, Leo had missed it.

“Geri, Ney... Ramos, James and a few other of Cristiano’s friends. His family too, of course. But my family doesn’t know, I haven’t gotten around to tell them yet and at this point I honestly don’t know when I will.” Leo had pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands and had used them to wipe at his face, he had felt a bit pathetic for having lost his composure in front of Luis like that but it had been a long day for him too and all the emotional turmoil from the past hour had overwhelmed him more than he had been willing to admit. So when Luis had clicked his tongue and had drawn him into a hug, he had downright melted into it, incredibly relieved that he had not lost his friend.

“I’m sorry,” Luis had spoken into his hair, “I shouldn’t have let myself go like that, I just thought that he came here to hurt you. You’re so kind-hearted, Leo, so trusting, so gentle... I didn’t want him to take advantage of that.” Leo had given a nod in return, not quite sure what to answer, but what Luis had said next had send a stab right into his heart, “And I hope that you’ll forgive me if I’ll never become friendly with him.”

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Leo had whispered, “but-”

“I won’t make you choose,” Luis had hurried to say, “I wouldn’t ever do that, because I know that you’d choose Ronaldo just like I’d choose Sofia and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Thank you.”

The older man had hummed and had pulled back, crossing the room to pick his bottle of water up. The laugh he had let out when he had sat back down had helped to ease the last bit of tension, “Will you tell me how it happened or do I have to wait for the first official interview?”

Luis had ended up staying for another hour and a half. Leo had made them mate, had sat down opposite of Luis and had begun to tell Cristiano’s and his story right from the start, deliberately letting out a few details when he had started with the 2014 Ballon d’Or ceremony as it had been awkward enough to retell those details in front of Gerard and Neymar. He had talked and talked and talked and Luis had listened, that time refraining from making any more comments about Cristiano, which Leo had really appreciated.

Sure, he had understood that Luis had every reason to hate the Portuguese, as the majority of the Blaugranas had, but he had not needed to be reminded of it all that often. Not that he had ever really forgotten about it, of course. He had told him a lot about Junior and the smile that had stood on Luis’ face had been a honest one, as the Uruguayan had known just how much he had liked children and how big of a topic it had been between Antonella and him for years and their conversation had gone so well that Leo, for the time being, had forgotten that Cristiano had been upstairs, just so relieved that the situation between Luis and him had not escalated any further.

Luis had practically engulfed him in a bear hug after Leo had brought him to the front door, muttering another apology and telling him that he had been happy for him even if he had not agreed with his partner choice.

“You can’t really choose who you end up falling in love with,” Leo had laughed as he had opened the door for Luis.

“Let’s just say that I’d be very concerned if you would’ve ended up choosing him anyway,” Luis had said with a chuckle. “Goodnight, Leo.”

“Goodnight.” Leo had closed and locked the door and had turned on the security system before he had put the dirty cups into the sink and had turned the lights of the lower floor off, it had been past eleven and Leo had been ready to pretty much drop dead. “Cris?” There had been no answer, but instead of calling out again Leo had quietly moved into the bathroom to get himself ready for bed. The wet toothbrush which had stood in the holder beside his own had told him that Cristiano had already gone through his routine, which had not been that much of a surprise, considering the amount of time that had passed and Leo had picked up his toothprush with a rather weary sigh, his eyelids already dropping close while he had brushed his teeth in silence.

He had pulled off his hoodie as he had tip-toed his way to the bedroom, not wanting to wake his boyfriend up if he should have fallen asleep by then, but a look past the ajar door had proven him of the opposite. Cristiano had been sprawled out right in the middle of the king-sized bed, his phone in his hand and headphones plucked in and given that he had looked utterly exhausted, Leo had wondered whether he had not just used his phone to stay awake until he would join him. He had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he had opened the door, slowly as not to startle Cristiano, who had flinched nonetheless and had greeted him with a smile that had looked as tired as Leo had felt.

“He finally left?” Leo had nodded, had dropped his hoodie onto the floor and had kicked his sweatpants off too before he had climbed onto the bed and right into Cristiano’s waiting arms with an exhausted sigh, settling into them in an instant. “Graças a Deus, estava pensando em ir até lá.” Cristiano had pressed a kiss into his hair, had locked his phone and had put it aside onto the nightstand. He had pulled the duvet over the both of them, making sure that it had covered Leo before he had turned off the main light, “I thought that he’d stay until tomorrow.”

Leo had given a tired chuckle in return, “It’s good that I finally told him, he was worried more than anything.”

Instead of answering right away, Cristiano had begun to comb a hand through Leo’s hair and the younger man had been moments away from falling asleep when he hadd spoken, “Does he really think that I’m only doing this to... take advantage of you? That I’m playing you?”

The Portuguese’s voice had been unusually quiet and even though he had not really been able to see Cristiano’s face in the dark, Leo had sat up to look down at him, only making out so much as his silhouette, “No, no he doesn’t.” He had placed a gentle hand on his boyfriend’s chest, slowly moving it up until he had cupped it against Cristiano’s face and he had bend down to kiss him, smiling against Cristiano’s lips when he had felt those strong arms around him again and had been pulled back down.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably continue to post a new chapter every month or so because not only did the new semester start and I'm thus incredibly busy with studying, I've also been sick this past week and am currently (10.10.20) awaiting the results of a Corona test I took today. Anyway, I hope that the length of the chapter makes up for the long wait since the last update and thank you for the all the comments/kudos! :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Thursday, 26. May 2016.**_

When Neymar had run right into him from behind not even five minutes after their afternoon training session had started, Leo had initially not thought much about it. Sure, it had hurt quite a bit and it had not been much of a gracious sight as the crash had resulted in him nearly face-planting the grass, but he had laughed it off and had not turned down Neymar’s hand when it had been offered to him, because the Brazilian had not even really needed to try to convince him that it had been an accident as he had known how clumsy Neymar had been at times. Leo had, however, blushed quite profusely once he had been back on his feet because Gerard had almost doubled over from the way that he had laughed about the incident and the younger man had tried to hide the fact that he had been blushing by bending down and pretending to tie his shoes.

The colour on Leo’s face had only turned into a darker shade when Neymar had ruffled through his hair and he had realised that there had been half a dozen cameras on them, meaning that there had been photos of him in that embarrassing position. “Sorry Leãozinho, didn’t mean to do that,” Neymar had repeated once more, giving Leo’s ass a playful smack after he had pulled his hand out of Leo’s hair. Leo had snorted at the use of his least favourite nickname and he had tried, but failed, to smack the back of Neymar’s head as his friend had ducked away at just the right second. “Oi don’t you dare to hit _me!_ I thought that your balance is a bit more advanced than that, it’s hardly my fault. Não seja mau!” 

He had rolled his eyes at his best friend’s comment but had allowed himself to laugh nonetheless before he had begun to jog his laps around the training ground, trying to ignore the light throbbing which had been left behind where Neymar had run into him and he had managed to somewhat ignore it when Gerard had joined his side and had bound him into a casual conversation.

The remainder of the training session had gone by rather uneventful. Leo had powered himself out as much as he had been used to do it, had put his mind onto the ball and if it would not have been for the constant ache in his back that the throbbing pain had ebbed down to, he most likely would have forgotten all about the incident for good by the time that he and his teammates had made their way back to the locker room. If someone would have asked him, he would have needed to admit that the ache had worried him quite a bit as it had been vaguely similar to the pain he had experienced just two months ago and while Leo had not allowed his mind to stray into that direction, because it had simply been impossible for Neymar to have caused such an injury by doing so much as run into him and knock him off his feet, it had made his stomach clench from dread.

The Argentine had made sure that he had walked slowly in order to hide the limp that the ache had triggered, but had failed to suppress the pained groan that had escaped him when he had plopped down onto his spot on the bench and it had cost him a lot of mental strength to not just jump up again. Neymar had gasped from beside him and suddenly, the laughter that had previously resounded throughout the locker room had died down and all eyes had come to rest on him, as none of his teammates and friends had forgotten about his emergency surgery. 

His best friend had immediately stood up from where he had been sitting at Leo’s side, had taken Leo by the arm and had helped him to lie down on the then free bench, muttering something in Portuguese under his breath. Even though Leo had not understood him, it had been unmistakable that Neymar had been more worried than Leo had wanted him to be. He had climbed onto the bench with another pained, halfway suppressed groan and had crossed his arms to pillow his cheek on them; the ache had lessened in intensity as soon as he had no longer been in an upright position which had made him hope that it had been nothing more than a muscle strain. 

Those who had been present in the locker room had eventually stopped staring at him and had continued to get undressed and move to the showers, allowing Leo to have a somewhat quiet moment that had only been cut short when Gerard had talked to him. “Leo,” the Catalan had almost whispered, squatting down at Leo’s side to put a hand into the small of Leo’s back. His hand had almost been big enough to cover the entire area, the warmth of it causing Leo to let out a low sigh and relax as much as he could have done it. “Is it that bad?”

“I don’t think so,” Leo had muttered into the crook of his arm. He had firmly kept his face hidden away while he had been granted a break from the pain with the help of the warmth that had seeped right into his skin where Gerard’s hand had been splayed out. “It just... hurts.”

“Do you want me to call an ambulance? It’s better to be safe than sorry, I really don’t want you to pass out again.”

His best friend’s question had caused Leo to twist around in a way that had made him groan from pain. “Nonono,” he had hurried to say, “please don’t do that, it don’t need one,” and suddenly it had no longer been the pain that had worried him the most. He had known how badly Cristiano had reacted when he had found out that Leo had been in the hospital and it had not taken him much to imagine how his boyfriend would have reacted if he would have required urgent medical care yet again. “Really Geri, I don’t. I promise that I don’t.”

Gerard had not tried to argue with him, obviously knowing that it would have been to no avail, and had instead begun to move his hand in small circles, drawing a sound out of Leo that had stood somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, “But you should get it checked out, Leo.”

“I know,” Leo had said with an almost petulant tone lacing his voice, “and I will get it checked out, but not like that. I can’t go to the hospital, I won’t go to the hospital.” He had dropped his voice to a whisper, not wanting to risk that anyone other than Gerard would hear what he had to say next. “Cristiano... I can’t do it to him. You know how badly he took it the first time. I can’t do it to him again, Geri.”

The deep crease between Gerard’s eyebrows had disappeared and the older man had sighed, moving his hand from the small of Leo’s back a bit further up. He had traced the curve of his friend’s spine as if to check where the pain had been coming from, he might not have been a doctor but he had been sure that he could have felt it if there would have been something gravely wrong with Leo, “That might be true but he also won’t be all too happy if you end up getting worse because you refuse to see a doctor.” 

Well aware that his best friend had been more than right with what he had said, Leo had not answered and had instead stayed quiet while Gerard had continued to move a hand up and down his back to help him relax as the others had proceeded to get dressed and leave the locker room. It had only been after Luis had left and Gerard, Neymar and him had been the last one still present in the locker room that Leo had tried to sit up, but he had let out an even more pained and cut-off groan than before at the wave of pain that the movement had triggered, as it had seemed that the time he had spend being easy on his back had actually made it more sensitive. He still had tried to sit up and swing his legs off the bench, though Neymar had forced him back down into a lying position by putting a hand into his neck.

The Brazilian had squatted down beside the bench to press a quick kiss into Leo’s hair once the smaller man had been sprawled out again, and he had combed his hand through Leo’s hair as he had pulled back to look at him. “I’m sorry,” Neymar had muttered. “I should’ve watched where I was going.” His voice had been laced with a note of honest remorse and Leo had turned his his head to get a look at his friend’s face.

To his shock, Neymar had looked as if he had been merely a few seconds away from bursting into tears and Leo had known him well enough to be able to read his guily conscience in the creases on his forehead and the way that his eyes had been narrowed. He had clicked his tongue and had opened his mouth to tell Neymar that he had not blamed, that he had known that it had been an accident and that it cannot be anything serious but Gerard had spoken before Leo could have gotten a single word out. “Do you want me to call Ricard for you? Maybe he’ll be able to come and check it out right here.”

“You should do that,” Neymar had immediately agreed, giving a rather enthusiastic nod to Gerard before he had turned his gaze towards Leo again. “Then there won’t be any press and Ronaldo won’t necessarily hear about it.”

Leo had made a small sound of protest and had raised onto his forearms to be able to look at his friend, “I’ll tell him, he’ll be mad if he finds out from someone other than me and you can’t expect me to-”

Neymar had snorted a laugh and had ruffled through Leo’s hair, “That’s not what I meant, Leão.”

“Would you please stop with that ridiculous nickname already,” Leo had muttered with a small huff, crossing his arms to pillow his cheek on them yet again. It would have been a lie if he would have said that he had not known how Neymar had meant it, but he still had a feeling that his best friend had not quite understood just how serious he had been about it. Dolores had told him all about how Cristiano had completely broken down after he had heard the news that Leo had been rushed into the OR for an emergency surgery and Leo’s heart had still ached due to the fact that he had not been able to notify Cristiano at one point before things had taken a turn for the worse that morning and so for Neymar to imply that he would not tell his boyfriend about it had been more than a bit improper. “Geri?”

“Hm?”

“Could you give me my phone? It’s in my locker and I’d like to call Cris now.”

He had listened how Gerard had moved past him, had rummaged a bit through his locker and had eventually came to his side again to hand him his phone, “I’ll go outside and try to reach Ricard, yeah?”

The Argentine had twisted around as much as he could have done it without wincing in pain to smile up at his best friend, “Thank you.” Neymar had let out an undeniably dramatic sigh and had sat down on the bench beside Leo’s head and had slotted a hand into Leo’s hair, simply combing through it like he had used to do it for years. In fact, Leo had not even paid a single thought to how it could have looked to someone other than their close friends. He had worried his bottom lip between his teeth after he had selected Cristiano’s contact and had waited for his boyfriend to pick up, Neymar’s hand not once stopping in its motion of combing through his hair.

Leo had let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief when Cristiano’s face had popped up onto the screen after a few seconds of wait, he might not have shown it all that much but he had been nervous what the examination from the team physician would bring to light. If he would be told that he would have to stay out of yet another two weeks’ worth of training sessions and games he had doubted that he would manage to keep himself from breaking down crying. He had wanted to be on the pitch, not waste his time lying around and being as useless as a footballer is whenever he happens to be injured - he had _needed_ to be on the pitch. “Hey bebê,” Cristiano had said, letting his words be accompanied with a baritone chuckle. The Portuguese had flashed Leo a grin as he had wiped at his face with the towel that had been hanging around his neck; there had been music playing in the background which had told Leo that Cristiano had been at someone else’s gym rather than his own.

The younger man had felt a stab of worry, but it had been a short-lived one as he had known that Cristiano would not have accepted the FaceTime call if there would have been Pepe or someone like him around. “Hey,” he had hurried to answer and he had blushed when he had realised that he had spend the short moment staring at his boyfriend’s face much like a love-struck teenager but before he could have another thing, Cristiano’s gaze had turned to a spot somewhere above Leo’s eyes and it had taken him an embarrassing amount of time to understand what it had been that his boyfriend’s eyes had been glued to. “Oh.” He had ducked his head, thus causing Neymar’s hand to slip out of his hair.

The blush on his face had darkened even further in shade and as if Neymar had known that it had been about him, he had jumped up from where he had been sitting and had moved so that his face had been in the frame of the call, “Desculpe desapontá-lo, mas sou só eu. Não precisa vir aqui e bater em alguém, Ronaldo!”

Cristiano had appeared to be utterly unamused as he had looked at Neymar, who had gone so far as to wink at the Portuguese before he had plopped back down onto the bench, though had refrained from stroking Leo’s hair that time and Cristiano’s face had lit up significantly once it had only been Leo and him again. “Ele é um idiota de merda,” the older man had muttered and had wiped at his sweat-stewn face once more. “What are you doing, bebê? Are you done with training yet?”

Leo had drawn in a deep breath through his nose, trying to let it out as quietly as he could have done it. He had decided that it would probably be for the best if he would just get the less-than-good news out with. “Yeah we’re done, I-I hurt my back at one point and I’m waiting for Ricard to come and see me.” His heart had ached, really ached when Cristiano’s smile had disappeared from one second to another and his eyes had grown wide with worry. It had made Leo wish that he would not have told him, no matter how stupid that train of thoughts had been, and he had went on when Cristiano had not said anything, “It’s not bad. I mean I can still feel my legs and walk and all of that but I was told that it would be good to get it checked out, just to make sure.”

There had been a few moments of silence between them and Leo had downright been able to see Cristiano’s mind working behind the brown of his eyes, he had heard a few voices in the background and while he had not been sure, he had throught that they could have belonged to Sergio and James. He had clutched at his phone as he had waited for Cristiano to say something, anything, blinking hard against the feeling of tears burning in the corners of his eyes that had been triggered by seeing the man he had loved being so visibly worried. Leo had hated that he had been the reason behind it. “Leo,” Cristiano had whispered, clearing his throat rather abruptly as if he had been shocked by the instability of his voice. “Are you sure that it’s not bad?” His voice has continued to be unusually quiet and the younger man could not have missed how much Cristiano had struggled with keeping himself composed. “If it’s your kidneys again-”

“It’s not that,” Leo had hurried to say, cutting his boyfriend off in the same go. “It’s definitely not my kidneys, Cristiano. My guess is that I tore a muscle or something.”

His heart had somersaulted when Cristiano had given a small nod and had brought a hand up to move it over his face in a weary motion. “That’s good,” Cristiano had said with a sigh, so low that it could have been directed at himself rather than at Leo, “okay, that’s good. Não vai ser nada ruim. Well a torn muscle isn’t good of course but it’s better than...” Leo had wished that he would have been there to take Cristiano’s face into his hand and ease the worried creases out of his skin, he had a hard time accepting that he would not get to see his boyfriend in person for a few more weeks because there had been few things he would have liked more than to feel Cristiano’s arms around him. He had flinched when the door of the locker room had fallen shut, cutting through the silence.

“Ricard will be here in about fifteen minutes,” Gerard had stated. He had looked at Leo while he had blindly pulled a banana out of his locker and had sat down onto his seat on the bench, “He told me to tell you that you shouldn’t move until he’s here.”

“Thank you.” Leo had directed a small smile at Gerard, who had smiled back at him, before he had turned his phone onto the screen of his phone again. “He’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” he had repeated, not knowing whether Cristiano had heard what Gerard had said. The Portuguese had nodded, he had not seemed as despairing as he had been a few moments ago but the worry and uncertainty yet had to vanish from his face. Leo had known that Cristiano had longed for them to be together in the same way that he had been doing it, there had been no need for him to speak it out. “I’ll call you once I know what it is, okay?”

“Please do that,” Cristiano had said in a way that could have implied that he had felt the need to say it, so as if Leo would not do it unless he would remind him. “I-I’ll probably be in the gym for another hour and a half but _please_ call me as soon as you can.”

Leo had nodded. He had failed to ignore the lump which had since grown in his throat but had forced himself to smile, even though he much rather would have liked to give up and linger in the misery of missing his boyfriend who had currently been more than 600 km away from him. When Sergio’s face had suddenly popped up in the frame much like Neymar had done if earlier, however, he had bursted out into laughter and Neymar as well as Gerard had turned their confused gazes towards him as the sound of Sergio being smacked against the back of his head had reached them, “Ow, the fuck!”

“Please Ser, not right now. It’s-”

“Hey Leo!” Sergio had been grinning from ear to ear, clearly in high spirits from the endorphin rush that his workout had been accompanied by as he had actually waved at Leo, who had given a rather awkward wave in return. The Spaniard and him had since become somewhat that could have been friends, but Leo had still felt a bit awkward about the way that they had actually been on speaking terms without it resulting in an argument of some sort, “Is Geri there or did he already leave?”

Gerard had snorted and had laughed out loud from where he had been sitting on the opposite bench and peeling his banana, apparently not bothered enough to stand up, “You would know that if you would check your phone, you idiot. I texted you.”

Leo’s eyes had widened almost comically when Sergio had pouted right there for him to see it; Gerard might have told him alot about what Sergio and him had been doingh, how different Sergio had been whenever they had been in private and Leo had seen them interact in person a few times, but it had still had not been a normality for him. “Aw baby come on, don’t be so mean to me,” the Spaniard had said, still showing the mock pout, “I just left my phone in the car and I really don’t appreciate you being so... _mean_.”

Cristiano had rolled his eyes. It had been clear that the Portuguese had not been all that amused by the antics his best friend had brought to light, though before he could have said anything a third face had popped up into the frame, just as covered in sweat as the other two. While Sergio had been grinning from ear to ear again and Cristiano had forced himself to a smile that had not quite reached his eyes, James had almost been an image of tranquility. The Colombian’s smile had been warm and honest, “Ney?”

After having perceived his boyfriend’s voice Neymar had practically jumped up onto his feet and had crouched down beside Leo to get a look at James, a wide smile growing on his face in return, “Hey baby, you’re looking good!” James had blushed quite profusely, and Neymar’s smile had become even bigger, “I love you.”

Cristiano had rolled his once again and he had downright glared daggers at Sergio when the Spaniard had clasped a hand over his mouth after he had opened it to speak. “Geri,” Sergio had whined, not ashamed of it whatsoever and Leo had shuffled a bit where he had been lying on the bench so that there had been enough space for Gerard to fit into the frame of the FaceTime call too.

The Catalan had sighed overly dramatic as he had thrown the banana peel into the nearby trashcan and had moved to join his friends, but he had failed to keep the annoyed façade up when he had seen his boyfriend’s face, “I’m not being _mean_ Papi, you’re just being overly sensitive.”

Leo had been certain that it had taken Sergio a lot to not moan on the spot, but the Spaniard had only smirked and winked at Gerard and Leo had resisted the urge to duck his head, “Call me when you’re home, yeah? When you’re _alone_ , baby.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” James had laughed, smiling at Neymar before his head had dissapeared out of sight.

“Okay that’s enough,” Cristiano had eventually snapped while Gerard had tried to appear as unaffected as he could have done it with a blushing into his face, and the Portuguese’s gaze had only softened when he had looked at Leo, who had since begun to fumble with the case of his phone to play over the fact that he had been confused by his own emotions that had ranged from fear to want to jealousy. Fear because he had no idea what Ricard would diagnose, want because he had yearned to be in Cristiano’s arms and jealousy due to the nagging voice in the back of his mind which had reminded him that Neymar would not have to hide his emotions the next time he would see James in public.

There had been chattering going on while Leo had gotten a bit lost in his thoughts, his fingers absentmindedly tugging at a corner of the silicone phone case, and he had flinched when there had been a rather loud knock at door which had been opened without the person on the other side having waited for a permission to enter, “Leo?”

“Eu te amo,” Cristiano had said, his voice not raised above a whisper and Leo had given a quick nod, whispering a low “I love you too” before he had ended the call and had set his phone aside. His heart had clenched at the prospect that the team doctor could have caught a sight of his boyfriend. Sure, there had been the pledge of secrecy but there would have been no way that Leo could have controlled it, especially since the photos which had been taken of Cristiano and him after the Clásico in April had resulted in more media attention than Leo would have been comfortable with.

“Leo,” Dr. Ricard Pruna had given the younger man a professional, albeit kind smile as a greeting and had pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose as he had eyes Neymar and Gerard, who yet had to stand up from where they had been kneeling by Leo’s side. The fifteen minutes had been over with much faster than either of the three Blaugranas had expected them to be, but there had been no way for them to tell whether Ricard had not just hurried to arrive earlier. “I’d like for you two to wait outside while I examine Leo,” the physician had stated, friendly but with an undeniable hint of authority that every Barça player had been familiar with and Gerard and Neymar had nodded in unison before they had scrambled to get onto their feet.

Leo had somewhat expected them to take their things and leave the training ground rather than just wait out on the corridor, but both of his friends had smiled at him and had said that they would do as they had been told. Ricard had set the bag he had brought with him down and Leo’s anxiety had increased to a tenfold once he had been alone with the much older physician, “Gerard told me that you hurt your back?”

“Uhm yeah,” Leo had cleared his throat, “Neymar accidentally ran into me.”

Ricard had nodded once, pushing his glasses up once again, “Can you sit up on your own?”

Nodding his head in agreement even though he had been a bit afraid of the pain that moving could cause him, Leo had halfway turned over onto his side before he had slowly stemmed himself up into a sitting position on the bench. Despite his best try he had not been very successful with hiding a whimper, which had been followed by a gasp once he had been sitting up. Ricard’s hands had been on him practically the same second, tracing the curve of Leo’s spine with gentle and skillful movements, obviously careful that he would not hurt Leo any more than he would need to in order to make a diagnosis.

“No spinal injury,” the older man had declared and Leo had let out a relieved sigh, which had been cut off abruptly when Ricard had pressed down onto a spot on the lower half of his back. The pain that touch had triggered had caused him to cry out and if it would not have resulted in him crashing into the physician, Leo would have jumped up from the bench. There had been tears blurring his vision when Ricard had removed his hands from underneath his jersey and had pulled back to look down at him, Leo had hurried to wipe them away. “You bruised your back.” Ricard had smiled at him reassuringly, “It’s nothing too serious but it will annoy you for a few days which is why you’ll have to take it easy, okay?”

“For how long will I be out?”

The physician had put a hand onto Leo’s shoulder to give it a light squeeze, “I’d say that you should skip tomorrow’s training session and rest for the weekend. You should be fit to participate in training on Monday. But no more crashing, understood?”

Leo had snorted a laugh at the almost parental scolding and had nodded, moving to take of his shoes, “Thank you, Ricard.”

“Anytime, you know that. How are you kidneys doing?”

“Better,” he had answered, trying not to groan again. “I have the next check-up in June but it’s all looking good so far.”

“That’s certainly good to hear.” Richard had picked up his bag, “Have a nice evening, Leo.”

“You too.”

The younger man had let out a breath he had not been aware of having held in as the team physician had disappeared behind the closed door of the locker room and Gerard and Neymar had come back in. “So?” Neymar had sounded undeniably nervous, “Is it bad?”

“No no, I’m just bruised,” Leo had said and he had hoped that the smile he had mustered would help to ease his best friend’s guilt over what had been nothing more than an accident. “I’ll have to stay out of training tomorrow but I’ll be able to go again on Monday.”

“Graças a Deus,” the Brazilian had muttered under his breath. He had taken Leo’s head into his hands to kiss the top of it. “Then I don’t have to be scared of Cris breaking into my house to beat me up for injuring you? Well if that’s not a relief I don’t know what is.” Rolling his eyes, Leo had made a weak attempt at swatting Neymar’s hand away.

“Do you want to shower here or at home?”

“Geri, you don’t have to...” Gerard had raised an unimpressed eyebrow, successfully silencing Leo’s protest much to the younger man’s dislike. Leo had not wanted to be a burden and other than it had been after his kidney surgery, he had not necessarily needed the help of his friends but he had not put up any further argument. “I’d like to shower at home,” had been all that he had thus retorted, a bit abashed, and both Gerard and Neymar had nodded.

The three Blaugranas had been on the way to Leo’s house not even ten minutes later, Leo had picked Gerard up for the afternoon training session so they had rode together in Leo’s car while Neymar had followed with his own car. The Argentine had grunted in discomfort where he had been sitting in the passenger’s seat. He had tried to call Cristiano a couple of times but had tried to reach anything other than his boyfriend’s voice mail, which had not really helped to lift his mood that had already suffered because he had been hungry, in pain and generelly not up for much fun in that moment.

Gerard had let out a small laugh, “Are you okay there?”

“Yeah,” Leo had said after a short pause, letting out a huff when he had settled into yet another position. He had not wanted to let his frustration out on Gerard, because his best friend had not been to blame in the slightest and he had moved a hand through his hair. “Missing Cristiano and Madrid but other than that I’m fine.”

Both Gerard and him had bursted out into laughter at what he had stated. “Don’t let anyone hear that,” his best friend had snorted, slowly driving the Mercedes onto the driveway of Leo’s house, “or the press would have a field day. But yeah it’s the same for me, I’m missing Ser a lot.”

“Will you see him before Junior’s birthday?” Just like last year, Cristiano had already said that Gerard and Neymar would both be welcomed to come to his son’s third birthday party, since they had all grown closer in the course of the past year.

Gerard had shaken his head. “No, I don’t think so. We’re all busy. But we’ll manage, I mean we’ve done it for the last four years...” The younger man had nodded, and Gerard and him had gotten out of the car just as Neymar had swerved his own car onto the driveway. He had merely put his gym bag down and had kicked his shoes off before he had disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Gerard to order them food and Neymar to set the PlayStation up.

It had only been after he had locked the door behind him that Leo had no longer tried to hide the small sounds of pain and discomfort while he had struggled to get out of his training clothes had had dumped them all onto the floor beside the laundry basket before he had dragged himself into the shower. The hot water had felt heavenly against his sore back even though it had been quite warm that day and Leo had shampooed his hair almost languidly while the water had drummed onto his skin. He had stood there for quite a few minutes until the feeling of the hot water had become painful rather than soothing and he had paused when he, upon having toweled himself dry, had realised that the only clean clothes he could put on had been a hoodie and matching sweatpants from Cristiano’s new CR7 line, but Leo had laughed and had shaken his head at his own thinking.

If there had been someone he could be open with about his relationship it had been Gerard and Neymar, and not only because they had all been on a triple date for Valentine’s Day. He had slipped the hoodie over his head before he had sat down on the closed toilet lid to put the pair of sweatpants on. They had been a bit too large, though not by two sizes like the hoodie. Leo had always enjoyed the way he had drowned in the oversized clothes Cristiano had gotten for him, and his boyfriend had not really beaten around the bush that he had enjoyed to see Leo drown in them. Combing through his damp hair, he had unlocked the bathroom door and had, with a quite significant limp in his gate, walked to the living room where Gerard and Neymar had been playing FIFA.

“Pizza’s on the way,” Gerard had said without taking his gaze off the TV, “and I think that Cris called you while you were in the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Leo had watched his friends try to beat each other’s team on FIFA before he had turned and had limped back towards the front door to get his phone out of his gym bag. Gerard had been right, Cristiano had called him - three times in the last twenty minutes. The Argentine had unlocked his phone and had begun to dial his boyfriend’s number from memory after he had lowered himself onto the couch with a pained groan which had caused Neymar’s head to snap around. He had not looked at Leo for long and had not actually said a word before he had resumed to play with Gerard, but he had lowered the volume so that Leo would be able to talk on the phone.

Cristiano had answered the call rather quickly and Leo had felt his heart leap when his boyfriend’s face had appeared on the screen, “Bebê?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he had said most unnecessarily, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth for just a second, “sorry that I didn’t answer, I was taking a shower.” The older man had nodded. It had only been when Cristiano had heaved Junior higher onto his hip that Leo had realised that he had been holding him. He had broken out into a smile, “Hey niño, it’s good to see you!”

The two-year-old had squealed and his curls had bounced when his head had snapped up, giggling and clapping his hands together, “Hi Leo, hi Leo! Pai look, Leo!”

Cristiano had sighed when his son had tried to reach his phone with grabby hands. “Não agora, nino, não agora. Você pode assistir sua série, okay?”, he had said, pressing a kiss into Junior’s curls but the young boy had whined in protest when his father had put him down onto the floor.

“No, I don’t want down Pai! Nooo! Nonono I want Leooo!”

The toddler’s whining had only ceased when the sound of a children’s TV show had reached Leo through the phone, and Cristiano had sighed once more, a bit weary that time. “That’s okay bebê, my phone died before I even left the gym so I missed your call too.” He had run a hand over his face and had plopped down onto the couch without taking his eyes off Leo. “What did Pruna say?” The younger man had blushed to a quite dark shade of red when Cristiano’s smile had suddenly turned into a grin. “And that’s a nice hoodie you’re wearing there, bebê.”

_**Junior’s third birthday, 17. June 2016.**_

“I think it’s unfair, Geri. I asked you more than once whether you’d like to come and you said _yes_ every time that I asked and now you’re complaining about it. I’m just trying to get Junior something good for his birthday, okay? If it’s all so _annoying_ and _exhausting_ to you, you can just leave and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Leo might not have raised his voice, but he had send a rather dark glare at his best friend before he had turned back around and had proceeded to walk into the toy store. The closer Junior’s birthday had become, the more nervous Leo had grown to be and Cristiano’s comment about it being unnecessary had not done anything to cease it because Junior would turn three and at three years old the boy had definitely been old enough to remember what he would be gifted just as much as would remember the person it would come from - or so Leo had thought, anyway.

He still had not stopped worrying about the strain that the distance between Barcelona and Madrid could have on his relationship with the toddler, had still been afraid that Junior could end up forgetting him even if the more reasonable part of his mind had reminded him that is had been uncalled-for. The boy had remembered him even when Leo had not gotten around to see him for almost three months right at the beginning of Cristiano’s and his relationship when life had decided to treat them anything but kindly and had made Leo fear that their relationship had been doomed to break apart. It had not done so, but even a year after the, in hindsight, minor crisis Leo’s heart had still ached at the prospect of losing ties with Cristiano’s son as he had not been there for quite a few milestones that the boy had done.

The last time Leo had seen Junior in person he had not spoken whole sentences and in June, three months later, Cristiano had told him all about the great progress Junior had made with his speech and how the two-year-old had even begun to have little conversations with Cristiano and Dolores and while Leo had known that it had not been his right, he had felt incredibly jealous that Sergio had gotten to witness it sooner than him. As if to compensate for that, Leo had wanted to go all out for Junior’s birthday present. Which had been far from easy. Most of the things that he had ordered off Amazon in his somewhat impulsive Christmas shopping spree with the intention to give them to Junior over the year had no longer been of interest to the then almost three-year-old, which had been why Leo had asked Gerard whether he would be up to coming with him to search for the perfect birthday present for Cristiano’s son in the toy stores that Barcelona had to offer.

His best friend had known how he had felt and just how important it had been for him, so when Gerard had muttered something about indecision after Leo had walked out of the second store empty-handed it had almost been like a punch into his stomach. Since he had not wanted to make a scene, Leo had not waited to see what his best friend’s reaction to his sudden outburst had been and had moved a hand through his hair, trying to ignore the way that his heart had been racing. He had hated arguing, no matter who it had been with, so when there had been a hand on his shoulder he had turned around instead of shrugging it off. Gerard had offered him a small, almost sheepish smile and Leo simply had to smile back in return.

“I’m sorry,” his best friend had said with a low voice, “I didn’t mean to offend you, that’s really not what I wanted. You just... light up whenever you talk about Junior and I think it’s the most adorable thing, Leo. I’m sorry, I should’ve kept myself in check.”

Gerard had pulled his hand back and Leo had tilted his head, smiling up at his best friend for a moment longer. “It’s okay,” he had answered after a shirt pause. “I’ll pay for dinner after this, okay?”

Aware that there had been a few other people present, Gerard had only given Leo a quick hug before he had, gently, pushed him further into the store with a hand in the small of his back. “You do that, now let’s go and find something for him.” Leo had nodded and had smiled at Gerard from over his shoulder once more, watching how he had walked off to the section with the remote-controlled toys.

“May I help you, Señor?” The grey-haired man which had stood behind the cash register had come over to Leo, who had tried not to look as forlon between the high shelves full of toys as he had felt like but had apparently failed to do just that. There had been no mistaking that the man had recognised him, but he had not let it shown.

“I, uhm, yeah,” Leo had cleared his throat and had given a nervous laugh, “I’m looking for a gift for my bo- for my _friend’s_ son. His birthday is next week.”

Javier, as the elderly man’s name tag had read, had nodded slowly, “How old is he?”

“He’ll turn three.”

Nodding once more, Javier had gestured behind him. “If you’d follow me.” Leo had smiled and nodded in return, setting out to follow the elderly man further into the store, away from the toys that had been designated for children above the age of ten and into the section that had been stacked with everything that toddlers and young kids could possibly want or need. “Does he like anything in particular, Señor? Firemen and Policemen? Cars?”

“He likes dinosaurs,” Leo had said after a moment of thinking about Javier’s question, “and horses, horses are his newest fascination. He loves them.” He had been lead through a few aisles and had, along the way, stated that he had not been looked for a stuffed animal as Junior had more than enough of those.

“Oh well.” Javier had laughed out loud, “One might argue that a child cannot ever have teddies to cuddle with, but I can see where you’re coming from.”

“I think that his father might just kill me if I show up with another teddy so...”

They had come to stand at a tall shelf which had been stacked with carefully arranged horse toy figures, Leo had seen them online but had never paid much attention to them as they had always been advertised as toys for girls. Javier had picked one of the toys off the shelf and had held it out for Leo, who had immediately taken it. “My granddaughters love those.” The younger man had immediately known that Junior would love to play with them. “They’re a bit on the expensive side, but they withstand a lot and last for many years. They’re definitely worth their price, Señor.”

It had not taken Leo much to keep the comment about him being more than able to affort it back and he had smiled at Javier, who had been watching him rather closely as if to gauge his reaction. “I think they’re perfect,” he had answered, taking one of the nearby shopping baskets. “Thank you very much.”

Javier had smiled, had bowed his his head and had clasped his hands behind his back before he had walked back to the front of the sore, leaving Leo to explore the rather extensive section on his own and Leo had found himself smiling as he had picked out the toys which he had hoped Junior would like and since there had been a lot, it had not taken him more than a couple of minutes to fill the shopping basked without paying too much attention to it. Cristiano may have hated to admit it, but Junior had been all about horses ever since they had gone onto their short getaway to Sergio’s farm for Valentine’s Day. Sergio had even gotten him a plush horse which the boy had carried around, together with the Barça teddy that Leo had given him the first time that he had come to Madrid to visit them.

Leo could have placed about two dozen different horse figures in the basket before he had forced himself to move on - only to stop at the next shelf, where he had spotted a stable set from the same brand and without hesitation, he had taken it out and had tucked it under his arm to carry it to the front of the store, where Gerard had still been looking at a remote-controlled racing car. The Catalan had snorted a laugh, “Oh Jesus, is that everything or...?”

The younger man had nodded and had swallowed hard against the blush that had threatened to rise into his face, feeling as if he had been caught with his hand in his mother’s cookie jar. He had known that it had been a lot, but he had wanted Junior to have it. Gerard had followed after him to the checkout, though not without ruffling through Leo’s hair and reminding him that the way he had cared about Junior had been absolutely adorable. Javier had greeted the both of them with a knowing smile before his gaze had shifted to Leo. “Ah. I see that you found something, Señor?”

“Yeah,” the corners of Leo’s mouth had twitched, “I hope that he’ll like it.” When Gerard and him had left the toy store, after Leo had paid and left a generous tip, he had practically been beaming even though he had known that there had probably been at least one paparazzo on them. “So,” he had turned around to grin up at his best friend, “where do you want to eat? Like I said, it’s on me today.”

༻✦༺

Leo’s face had been split by a grin when Cristiano had called him not even five minutes after Gerard had dropped him off at his house and he had placed Junior’s birthday gifts onto the coffee table in the living room before he had accepted the FaceTime call and had greeted his boyfriend with just that grin. It had grown even wider, silly almost, at the way that Cristiano had snorted, had rolled his eyes and had shaken his head. The Portuguese had put his phone down, propping it against something so that he would have his hands free and enabling Leo to see that he had been working in the kitchen.

“You owe me an apology,” the older man had said instead of a greeting, raising a single eyebrow in an attempt to appear rather serious but the fact that the corners of his mouth had twitched as he had tried to suppress a smile had given away that he had not been all that serious about it.

Leo had snorted and had plopped down onto the couch with an exaggerated sigh, moving a hand through his hair. He had put his feet onto the coffee table, mindful of the toys, “An apology for what? I can’t think of anything that I did wrong.”

Cristiano had looked up from where he had been cutting various vegetables into small cubes and Leo had quite the hard time to not downright gape at the way that the tight white shirt which Cristiano had been wearing had accentuated his waist and the muscles of his upper body. He had not seen his boyfriend in person for close to two months, it had only been natural. “Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t go out with Gerard then?”

Spluttering in disbelief, Leo had looked at the screen of his phone only to see that Cristiano had been showing him a toothy grin, “I did not _go out_ with him, Cristiano, he helped me to get Junior’s birthday present! And even if-”

The Portuguese had laughed out loud and had shaken his head, cutting Leo off and obviously having found great amusement in what he had been doing, “Leo, I had to _physically_ hold Ser back after Gareth pointed out that you two were all hugging and making heart eyes at each other. It wasn’t funny.”

“I mean I’ve never been on an actual date to a toy store but if you decide to take me on one someday...”, Leo had chirped; his grin had turned into a smile when Cristiano had smiled at him in a way that had made his chest feel like it had been seconds away from bursting. “I don’t think that I’d complain at all.”

Cristiano had shaken his head, his smile not faltering, “I’ll think about it once you’ve apologised to me in person, bebê.”

༻✦༺

If there had been one good thing that had resulted from the paparazzi photos which had been taken of Cristiano and him earlier that year in April, after the Clásico, it had been that, while their relationship had remained to be a secret to anyone but a few of their friends, Cristiano and him had been able to behave as friends rather than rivals and Leo thus had no longer needed to be anxious about being spotted at Madrid-Barajas Airport or in the neighbourhood of Cristiano’s house - which had, however, not hindered his anxiety from rising to a rather uncomfortable level the day that Gerard, Neymar and him had boarded Neymar’s private jet. His initial enthusiasm about getting to spend two valuable days with Cristiano and Junior had almost completely disappeared into thin air after Cristiano had told him that there would be many more people coming to Junior’s birthday party than there had been last year, meaning that they would have to come together as friends, not lovers.

Leo had not known whether he had merely imagined it or not, but he had thought to hear something like guilty conscience lacing his boyfriend’s voice when he had told him. “Pepe was already pissed when I didn’t invite him last year,” Cristiano had said and if it would have been a FaceTime instead of a regular call, Leo surely would have seen him scowl.

“Okay,” had been all that Leo had said in return, trying not to sound too disappointed because he had known for a fact that it had not been Cristiano’s fault, or anyone else’s at that. It had been due to their profession, to their _jobs_ and their duties at their clubs and, most importantly, the ruthless press and the hate that would be directed at them once their relationship, their sexuality would have been made public. So Leo had said nothing more than that and had merely hummed when Cristiano had promised him that Pepe and all the others that had not known about them would not be staying for long.

And yet, as Leo had been waiting beside Gerard for Neymar to drive up with their rental car, he simply had to worry his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to keep his anxiety at boy and ignore the way that his stomach had clenched at the prospect of having to face Pepe in the course of the day because while Cristiano and him had been rivals, Pepe and him were _enemies_. The Portuguese had never bothered to hide the fact that he had downright despited Leo and everything he had stood for and Leo had not forgotten about the bathroom incident during the Ballon d’Or afterparty, either, so for him to feel a bit uneasy that Cristiano had invited him had been understandable. Or had it not?

Thinking about it had made Leo feel even more nervous and he had let out a shaky breath, visibly wincing when he had caught, out of the corner of his eyes, how Gerard had almost whirled around to look at him, “Leo?!”

“I’m okay,” he had hurried to pacify his best friend, swallowing hard. “Really, I’m okay. I’m just... thinking.” Another wave of nause had rolled over him when Gerard had continued to look at him, assessing almost, until there had been a honk and Neymar had pulled up with the rental car, honking again to urge his friends to get into the car. Leo had not been the only one eager to be reunited with his boyfriend, after all. He had gotten into the backseat of the Mercedes, leaving the passenger’s seat to Gerard and trying to ignore how his best friends had eyed him through the rearview mirror. Neither had addressed the fact that the look on his face had been a rather blank one and Leo had been grateful that Neymar had already connected his phone to the bluetooth speakers so that music had been playing, hindering the scene from becoming any more awkward while Leo had focused on getting himself back under control.

There had been a few cars parked on the driveway of Cristiano’s house by the time that Neymar had steered the Mercedes onto it and Leo had felt his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach; he had tried to remember the promise Cristiano had given him. He could easily go through an hour or two without throwing himself around Cristiano’s neck, if necessary he would simply put on the _pecho frío_ act he had been torn apart over so many times. Once again ignoring the looks he had received from Neymar and Gerard, Leo had taken his suitcase and rucksack out of the trunk. He had already been able to make out the vague sounds of distant music and laughter from the garden that had been hidden from sight by a tall fence, and Leo had drawn in a deep breath.

It had not mattered that he had stood on the public eye for well over a decade, his social anxiety had never made any move to easy up on him. Gerard’s hand had come to rest in his neck to give it a reassuring squeeze as they had made their way up the path from the driveway up to the front door, which had been opened before they had even reached the end of the path and Leo’s face had heated up and his heart had somersaulted when Cristiano had come into sight. God, he had looked so good and he had not even needed to try. The Portuguese had combined a white t-shirt with a pair of dark trousers and together with his unstyled curls, he had been the epitome of Leo’s heartthrob. “Hey,” Cristiano had said, greeting the three Blaugranas but not taking his eyes off Leo, who had not quite managed to meet his gaze. “I’m glad that you all made it.”

“We’re glad too, no one can possibly tell what’s going to happen these months,” Gerard had retorted while Leo had only mustered a small smile and had tried to get into the house without hurrying too much.

“Well, you’re definitely right about that,” Cristiano had stepped aside and had opened the door a bit wider, closing it as soon as Leo, Gerard and Neymar had walked past him. “Hey bebê.” Closing his eyes, Leo had stopped in the motion of taking off his shoes when Cristiano had come to stand behind him and had wrapped his arms around his face, pulling him back and gently urging him to turn around and face him. He had barely made out how Neymar had disappeared into the direction of the living room to find their respective boyfriends and the blush on his face had darkened as he had looked up at Cristiano, but he had been kissed before he could have said something. Cristiano’s hands wandered from Leo’s waist up to his face to cup it, pull the younger man closer and deepen the kiss, drawing a small whimper out of Leo. Then that they had been inside, the music and chattering had been an almost overwhelming mixture.

“I missed you,” the Portuguese had whispered against Leo’s lips, not pulling back even after the kiss had ended. He had stroked the soft skin over the younger man’s cheekbones and had pressed a kiss onto one, then the other corner of his mouth, eventually leaning back to look down at his boyfriend when he must have noticed how Leo had been unusually quiet around him. If Leo could have mustered the courage to take his eyes away from where they had been glued to Cristiano’s chest, he would have seen how Cristiano’s smile had died down quite a bit. “Pepe’s here.” His thumbs had not stopped stroking Leo’s cheeks, “He won’t do anything, bebê. I talked to him.”

Leo had nodded and had forced himself to raise his gaze, managing a smile, “That’s good.”

At the sight of Leo’s smile, Cristiano’s had returned as well and he had lowered his head to kiss him once more, keeping one hand cupped against he side of Leo’s face and moving the other down the curve of his back. The younger man had closed his eyes and had leaned against his boyfriend for just a moment, quietly seeking the comfort he had missed for months to which Cristiano had answered by putting his arms around him and nuzzling his face into his hair. None of them had spoken as they had held each other. Their moment together had been cut short, however, when there had been a squeal coming from the other end of the room, followed by the pitter-patter of footfalls and giggles.

“Leo!” Neither Leo nor Cristiano had really minded the disturbance, of course - especially not Leo, who had not gotten to see Junior since March. “Leeeooo!” The Argentine had lowered himself onto his knees as soon as he had spotted the three-year-old, who had been squealing with laughter when he had run through the entrance area, “Leo! Leeeooo!”, and his smile had grown impossibly wide once Junior had downright thrown him. The toddler had wrapped his short arms around Leo’s neck, “Hi Leo!”

“Hey niño,” Leo had said with an almost whispering, hugging Cristiano’s wriggling son as close as he could have done it without accidentally hurting him. “Happy birthday.” He had combed a hand through Junior’s unruly curls, leaning back to catch a sight of the boy’s face who had loosened his arms from around Leo’s neck and had grabbed onto Leo’s shirts with strong little hands instead. Leo had elicited another fit of giggles from the three-year-old when he had cupped his his face and had peppered both of his chubby cheeks with smoothes, “You’re getting so big niño, wow. Te extrañé mucho, te quiero mucho.”

Junior had shaken his head, tugging at Leo’s shirt, “Noooo Leo I’m not big, not big!”

Leo had ruffled through Junior’s hair, making sure to fix it afterwards, “Do you know how old you are, niño?”, and had thrown his head back to laugh when the toddler’s face had scrunched up in a perfect replica of what Cristiano looked like whenever he tried to remember something specific.

“So much!” Junior had clumsily held three of his chubby fingers up, showing off a toothy smile, “Twee!”

“Yeah you’re three years old now! Good boy!” Leo had said after giving a faked and well-placed gasp in return; he had smiled from ear to ear even though he had felt an undeniable twinge in his chest at the progress that Junior had made with his speech in the months that they had not seen each other, “Look at you, already three years old.”

Cristiano’s son had tugged at his shirt with a bit more vigour and had grinned at him, obviously more than just happy to have him again, “Play with me now?”

“Later, okay niño? I promise that I’ll play with you later.”

Whining, Junior had shaken his head in disagreement, “ _Nooow!_ ”

“Ele disse que não agora, meu amor,” Cristiano had cut in with a gentle tone, and he had dropped a hand onto the top of his son’s head, “Why don’t you go and see whether Uncle Ser wants to play with you, hm?”

His attempt of placating his son had been of no avail. Junior had only shaken his head and had clinged onto Leo, refusing to let go of him at all. Since having decided that he would wait until later to give Junior the presents he had bought for him, Leo had merely kissed the wild mess of Junior’s curls and had stood with the toddler in his arm. He had hesitated to walk further into the house, unsure whether he had been in the right mindset to meet one of the few people who had actually been terrifying to him, and he had swallowed when one of Cristiano’s hands had found its way into the small of his back, urging him to move with gentle but determined. While Junior’s second birthday had been a rather small occasion, the boy’s third birthday had been almost the polar opposite.

There had been people sitting around the large table on the terrace, on the couches the decorated living room and standing around in small groups. Most of them had been footballers, of course, and Leo had not known why he had felt relieved when he had spotted Dolores as well as Cristiano’s siblings and their partners almost right away - but it had only been short lived, as he had needed to fight the urge to turn around and flee when seemingly every pair of eyes had come to rest on him. Almost all of them had been kind, of course, coming from those that he had been friendly with and who had known about Cristiano’s and his relationship, a few had been curious and only one had been openly disapproving.

Leo had actually felt a shiver going through him once he had realised that Pepe had been watching him, not really inconspicuously so either from where he had been sitting out on the terrace and he had forced himself to smile in order to silently greet those who had been looking at him, heaving Junior a bit higher onto his hip. The three-year-old had appeared to be happy enough with just being held; Leo had made sure that he had not watched Cristiano as his boyfriend had walked past him and he himself had made a beeline for one of the few seats on the couch, placing Junior on his lap. He had not really made an effort to join the conversation that had been going on and had, truth be told, been rather glad that no one had tried to bind him into it, as it had left him able to rock Junior and hold a little conversation with him instead.

Cristiano’s son had let him do that for quite some time, but Leo had neither been sad nor disappointed when he had wriggled out of his hold to go and play. He had watched how the boy had dashed over to the gifts that had been piled up where a large golden 3-shaped balloon had been glued onto the spot, trying, but failing, to ignore his rising nausea. Leo had not wanted to cause a scene and ruin the party just as he had not wanted to worry Cristiano even more than he had already done it in the past few months but once his knee leg had begun to bounce almost uncontrollably he had known that he had needed to go and catch his breath. Gerard, Neymar and James had exchanged looks when he had stood rather abruptly and had strode out of the room without saying a word. He had known that they had no idea about how scared he had been, about how he had suddenly been terrified of doing or saying anything he should not do or say and end up revealing what he really should not reveal and even though practically everyone had known about his anxiety issues since the last World Cup, he had hoped that no one had recognised it then. 

The young Argentine could have gotten sick on the spot, however, when he had thought to feel Pepe’s burning gaze on his back as he had left the living room for the kitchen. God, he had been so excited for this day to come only for it to turn out anything but how he had expected it to. He had no one to blame but himself, or so he had thought. Once he had been in the kitchen, Leo had almost collapsed against the counter top, holding onto its edge to keep himself upright as he had closed his eyes and had tried to get his rapid heartbeat back under control, only letting go once he had been sure that his knees would not give out underneath him. He had lived with anxiety for more than fifteen years and yet had found himself overwhelmed in situation where he really had no reason to be overwhelmed.

Leo had tried to be happy and focus on the fact that he had been reunited with Cristiano and Junior, but he just had not been comfortable having to pretend around all those people who could have been thinking the absolute worst of him without him knowing. His phone had vibrated in the front pocket of his jeans, startling him, and he had not been all that surprised to see that it had been a text from Cristiano.

 _Cristiano:_ [Bebê are you okay? What happened? 👀]

[Headache], Leo had hurried to answer back, using the same white lie as always.

 _Cristiano:_ [Is it bad? Do you need anything?]

[No, I’m okay now :-)] Locking his phone and setting it aside, he had moved across the kitchen to get a glass out of a cupboard to fill it with tap water and empty it with slow sips, telling himself that it would help his stomach to settle.

“Bebê.”

He had flinched so badly that it had almost resulted in him dropping the glas into the sink rather than just putting it down. “I’m okay,” Leo had said as a repetition of what he had texted Cristiano, who had not answered before he had moved to stand behind the smaller man and had wrapped his arms around him. Closing his eyes, he had leaned back against the muscular chest. In that moment, the months that he had been forced to go without his boyfriend’s touches had rested heavily on his shoulders and he had feared that he would never grow used to it after all.

“We’ll eat in about an hour,” Cristiano had muttered, kissing Leo’s cheek, “and then we can...” Leo had shaken his head, not because of what the Portuguese had said but because he had a hard time accepting that their love, their relationship had been doomed to remain a secret. His stomach had clenched harshly at the sound which Cristiano had let out, “Leo, bebê, what-”

“Nonono it’s nothing, sorry. It’s nothing.”

Cristiano had brushed his lips over a spot right underneath Leo’s jaw, “You know that it won’t be like this forever, right? I promised you that, bebê.”

“Yeah,” Leo had answered, even if he had happened to have a hard time actually believing it. “I’ll just... go.” He had needed to wriggle out of his boyfriend’s arms and he had offered him a rather halfhearted smile, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers as he had made his way back to the party and he had kept his head ducked while he had gotten himself a drink from the makeshift bar that had been set up in the living room. With a glass of wine spritzer in his hand Leo had decided to move into the garden, even though it had meant that he would be even closer to Pepe, but the weather had been exceptionally nice and he had not wanted to be in a bad mood around the others.

The older man had not bothered to hide the disgusted look which had grown on his face when Leo had stepped out onto the terrace and he had taken a sip from his beer without looking away from the Argentine. “Hey,” Sami and Sergio had said, almost in unison, smiling and raising their glasses at Leo in a greeting that had been as opposite to Pepe’s as it could have been. Toni, Xabi and Iker had smiled at him as well and Leo had hoped that the smile he had given in return had not been as awkward as it had felt like; Pepe had glared at him as if he had offended his family simply by standing there. He had made sure that he had not even glanced into the older man’s direction while he had walked past the table to get down from the terrace, letting out a breath he had not been aware of having held in and Leo had, slowly but steadily, begun to calm down once he had been sitting on the porch swing in the far end of Cristiano’s garden with the cold drink in his hand and his face turned towards the sun.

Since Leo had been there as Cristiano’s friend, it had not actually been conspicuous that he had retreated from the main party and had listened to the music and chatter from a distance. For how long he had been sitting there undisturbed he had not actually known, but the wine spritzer had long been emptied when he heard Junior calling out his name. “’Eo!” Opening his eyes, Leo had twisted around to check where the three-year-old had been and a smile had grown on his face at the sight of Cristiano helping Junior down the few steps of the terrace so that the toddler would be able to run over to him. “Eo!” Junior had giggled around the pacifier in his mouth, holding his teddy and plush horse in one hand each and not letting go of either as he had clambered onto Leo’s lap, who had held onto the boy out of reflex. Leo’s smile had widened at the serious expression that had flashed over Junior’s face, the boy had really been Cristiano’s son through and through. “Eat now.”

“Niño, I don’t-”

“Pai say eat now.”

“It’s time for lunch?” Junior had nodded, still looking rather serious and Leo had darted a quick look over to Cristiano, who had been watching them with his arms crossed over his chest and a corner tugging at the corners of his mouth, before he had turned his gaze to Junior again, “Okay niño, let’s go and eat then.” The serious expression had vanished from the toddler’s face and Junior had squealed, pressing himself up against Leo as he had not been able to hold onto him with the plush animals still in his hands; Leo had come after the boy’s wish, of course, and had effortlessly hoisted him onto his hip. “You’re probably hungry, aren’t you? And knowing your Pai he won’t let you have any cake before you had your lunch.”

Nuzzling Junior’s curls in a response to the giggle that he had let out, Leo had only lifted his head to smile at Cristiano once he had gotten closer to him. The Portuguese had, after having checked Pepe had no longer been sitting out on the terrace, closed the gap between them and had cupped Leo’s face to kiss him, smiling against the younger man’s lips, “I missed you in there, bebê.”

“Missed you too,” Leo had whispered, pulling his botttom between his teeth for just a second. Cristiano’s eyes had wandered down to it, staying there until Junior had whined and had wriggled impatiently where Leo had held him. “Okay niño, we’ll eat now. You’re just like your Pai...”

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean, _Leo?_ ”

“Nothing,” Leo had chirped, grinning at Cristiano from over his shoulder but he had made sure that he had turned his grin down into a smile when he had stepped over the treshold and into the living room. The buffet had already been put up - which he had already known about from one of the phone calls with Dolores, and Leo had continued to balance Junior on his hip as he had fetched himself a plate and had set out to inspect the buffet. Junior had made little sounds around his pacifier, apparently trying to tell Leo something without wording it out, that the Argentine had shushed by kissing his cheek and telling him that he could eat soon. Leo had not wasted a second thought on getting a different plate for Junior, had filled it for the both of them instead, “Which one do you want, niño? Chicken or salmon?”

“Chicken,” the three-year-old had said after a short pause and Leo had thought that the way that Junior’s pronunciation had been off due to his pacifier had been the most adorable thing he had ever heard.

The toddler had him wrapped around his finger, but Leo had not minded it all that much and even though he had been standing pretty much in the middle of the living room, he had placed a lingering kiss into Junior’s curls. “Love you, niño.”

“Leeeooo!”

“I know that you’re hungry, I know.” Leo had huffed a laugh, really having to concentrate on balancing both Junior and the fully stacked plate without dropping either of them as he had walked back out onto the terrace. “Just one moment, okay? We need to sit down first.”

He had put the plate onto the table and had sat down with the toddler in his lap, making sure that Junior could not get a hold of the plate and accidentally make a mess of himself like the boy had apparently been prone to. Junior had reached for his pacifier, squealing with laughter when Leo had wrapped his arms around him to pull him back and blow raspberries onto one of his chubby cheeks. “Do _not_ throw your pacifier, niño.” Leo had ended up taking it out of the boy’s mouth and he had only picked up his cutlery once Junior had stopped squirming; he had been so engrossed in his moment the three-year-old that he had not bothered to look up when people had begun to fill the other seats at the table, instead handing Junior the fork with a piece of baked potato and chicken on it. “Buen apetito querido, comer hacer.”

Cristiano’s son had not needed to be told twice to eat and the fork had been pressed back into Leo’s hand what could have been a second after he had given it to Junior. Sergio, who had claimed one of the chairs beside Leo, had reached out and had pinched the toddler’s cheek, causing him to giggle around a moutfull of chicken and squirm around on Leo’s lap. “It’s good, isn’t it? I know that it is, your Pai and I worked _very hard_ on that so you better eat up and not complain about it, yeah?”

Gerard had rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner where he had been sitting to Sergio’s left, but the smile on his face had been a proof that he had not been annoyed and Leo had tried not to look at the hand that had been gripping his best friend’s thigh. Cristiano and him had not been the only ones who had needed to pretend, Leo had not wanted to think about how many others were forced to do the same.

Compared to how things had been earlier, lunch had gone by rather peacefully for Leo, but the moment had been cut short when Pepe had joined them. Cristiano and the older Portuguese had brought out a few drinks for those who had chosen to sit on the terrace; Leo had found himself forcing down a smile when Cristiano had put down a glass of raspberry wine spritzer without him having to ask for one, and he had shuddered involuntarily when his boyfriend’s hand, which had been holding onto the back of his chair while Cristiano had combed through Junior’s curls a few times, had brushed over his neck as if purely by accident. Then that there had been Junior on his lap, it had been easier for him to ignore the glares he had received from Pepe. Leo had wondered whether Cristiano had noticed the looks from his compatriot and had merely chosen to ignore them, or if he had been oblivious, but his heart had dropped before he could have spend more time thinking about that.

It had done so when Pepe had, without any real consideration, grabbed Junior and almost tore him out of the loose hold which Leo had him in. “O que o Messi quer com você? Ele nem deveria estar aqui,” Pepe had said, bouncing the toddler, and even if Leo had not understood what it had been that he had stated, he could not have missed the derogatory tone of his voice. The laughters and chatters which had been going on had died down the very second that Pepe had taken Junior from Leo, and the silence had continued to stand when Pepe had held the three-year-old, “Você gosta mais de mim, não é?”

Junior had whined and had tried to push himself away from Pepe’s chest, shaking his head and eventually making grabby hands at the Argentine. “Leo.” He had sounded like he had been close to crying, and Leo’s heart had actually hurt, “Leo, Le-eo.”

“Que porra-”

“É o bastante,” Cristiano had snapped with quite some bite behind it, stepping away from Leo’s side and closer to Pepe, who had cocked an eyebrow but had not said another word before he had handed Junior over to his father. Cristiano had muttered something to his toddler son, rubbing his back for just a moment and Leo had looked up in surprise when Junior had been placed on his lap again.

“It’s okay,” Leo had whispered, hugging Junior to his chest and rocking him gently to calm him down. “It’s okay, niño.” That Pepe had disliked him had been one thing, but for him to pull the boy into it? It had not taken Leo much to imagine how Cristiano must have felt. He had kissed the top of Junior’s head and had turned him around on his lap, picking up the, “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?”

The boy’s tiny answer had wiped out the last bit of tension, making most of the adults laugh, “Yeah.” 

In the end, Leo had found himself alone with Cristiano and Cristiano’s family a lot sooner than he had thought he would. After lunch, the guests had eventually begun to leave, one by once an in small groups, and Leo had been more than understanding when Gerard and Sergio as well as Neymar had been amongst the earliest ones to leave. They had all needed some time alone. He had been helping Dolores with putting the first load of dirty dishes into the dishwasher when Cristiano had entered the kitchen, coming back from having brought Sami and Gareth to the door and making his presence known by clearing his throat. Elma and Katia had been sitting at the kitchen table, eating leftover cake, and the both of them had exchanged a knowing look when Cristiano had moved to stand behind Leo, had slipped his hands under the hem of Leo’s shirt and pulled him back so that the smaller man had been pretty much locked in place. “Cris!” Leo had squealed when he had been kissed onto a spot low on his neck, and the blush on his face had darkened at the way that Dolores and Cristiano’s sisters had laughed.

“You still owe me an apology, bebê.” He had needed to wriggle a bit to be able to turn around and face his boyfriend. His uncertainty must have shown on his face, because Cristiano had squeezed his waist reassuringly and had continued without awaiting an answer, “Going out with Piqué like that...”

Letting out barely audible sigh, Leo had smiled and had stood on his tiptoes to press a kiss against Cristiano’s lips, his heart somersaulting at the way that the Portuguese had hummed and had brushed his thumbs over the scars on his flanks, “I’m sorry.”

“Mhm, say it again bebê.”

He had rolled his eyes for the sake of it and had complied, allowing his boyfriend to deepen the kiss by parting his lips for Cristiano’s tongue to slip past them. “Excuse me? Could you two not do that, there’s a minor in the room who really doesn’t have to see that,” Hugo had said with a snort, holding a squirming Junior in his arms and Cristiano had looked at his brother completely unbothered before he had kissed Leo again, swallowing the younger man’s sound of protest.

He had eventually been forced to stop kissing his boyfriend, though, when Leo had bursted out into laughing because Junior had squeezed himself between Cristiano’s and his legs and had tried to push Cristiano away, “Nonono _no!_ No Pai, _no!_ Leo _mine!_ ”

“Docinho,” Dolores had laughed. Since Leo had his back turned towards her, he had not noticed that she had been recording the scene, “Venha aqui, deixe seu pai ser.”

“No!” Junior had stomped his foot and had slapped his hands onto Cristiano’s thighs, “No, stop!”, letting out a whine when his father had merely laughed and had scooped him up to ruffle through his hair.

“That’s not very nice, você sabe que eu também senti falta dele, nino.” Cristiano might have cocked an eyebrow at the way that Junior’s face had scrunched up, but the toddler had been unaffected and had held out his arms for Leo to take him, giving a toothy grin to his father once he had been comfortably settled on Leo’s waist.

“This is...” Elma had begun, leaving Katia to finish the sentence.

“You guys are so adorable. Cris, se você deixar o Leo ir eu bato em você. Quero dizer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending's rather abrupt but I had to stop somewhere *cries* xD


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With everything that happened in the recent time (being sick, uni, my country going into a second lockdown and the terror attack happening (I live in Vienna)) I'm glad that I managed to get the chapter done even if I'm not all too happy with my writing because it "looked" different in my head. Life is crazy for everyone right now so I shouldn't complain :-)
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.
> 
> **A quick note: there's explicit homophobia in this chapter. If it triggers you or just isn't your cup of tea in general, you're safe to read the chapter up to where I put the [!] as a warning.**

_**Leo’s 29th birthday, 24. June 2016.** _

Leo had allowed himself to sigh when he had flicked off the kettle and had made himself yet another cup of tea, silently cursing himself for not having tried harder to talk Cristiano out of taking a flight to Barcelona on Tuesday instead of Wednesday, his birthday, because it had been almost one in the morning and Cristiano and Junior still had not made it to Leo’s place.

He had tried to convince his boyfriend that it would have been perfectly fine for them to come to Barcelona on Wednesday, like Dolores had planned her trip, had promised Cristiano that he would be happy no matter when he would get to see him but the Portuguese had been quite vehement about his decision and had thus proceeded to book his private plane for Tuesday, which had meant that Leo had been prepared to stay up later than he would have done it on any other day. Cristiano’s training session would end around six-thirty and he had told Leo that he would only make a quick detour to Dolores’ house to pick up Junior and his luggage before he would head straight to the airport.

“Don’t even try it bebê,” the Portuguese had cut Leo off when he had tried to speak up and even though Leo had not been able to see his boyfriend’s face, he had known that Cristiano had been smirking and for a few seconds, the low rumble of the Bugatti’s engine had been the only sound between them. “It’ll be _fine_ , Leo. There’s really nothing for you to worry about, Junior and I will be with you around ten if everything goes smoothly. But I’ll text you when we land so you’ll know for sure.”

Leo had moved a tired hand over his face, giving his eyes a rub. Cristiano had been supposed to arrive at ten-thirty, but there had been a change of plans: Junior had thrown up all over himself and Cristiano when his father had buckled him up in his car seat, forcing Cristiano to change his son’s as well as his own clothes which, in turn, had resulted in them losing their flight window and being assigned another almost two hours later that their original one.

“I can still get us a hotel room,” Cristiano had said when he had called Leo from Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport earler, his accent a bit more thickly lacing his voice as he had been more annoyed than Leo had heard him in a long time. He had known that it had not actually been directed at him, of course. “I know that you need your sleep and it’ll be late-”

The younger man had snorted, thus cutting the other off, “Are you even hearing yourself right now because that’s just stupid. Seriously, Cris. I’ll stay up and wait until you two are here.”

Cristiano had hummed at the other end of the line, “That’s what I like to hear, bebê. I can’t wait to see you again, ai meu deus I can’t believe that it’s been just a week... muito bem pareceu um mês,” making Leo smile even though there had been no one to see it.

He had shaken his head, though not in negation to what his boyfriend had said, “I’m missing you and Junior a lot. Like always, really, you know that it’s never changing. Is he any better?”

The Portuguese had hummed once more, “He is, I gave him a banana and he kept it in. I hope that it was just one of those things that kids do without any reason, he’s only ever been sick when he was teething...” Cristiano had cleared his throat, “And Hugo will take my car to get it cleaned tomorrow, so it’s all good.”

So Leo had waited. He had cooked dinner for himself, saving a portion each for Cristiano and Junior each in case they would be hungry, had showered and had sprawled out on the couch to watch Netflix in order to pass the time but when he had dozed off and had startled awake almost an hour later, he had turned the TV off and had chosen to sit in the kitchen instead. He had been exhausted, his own training session had been a lot and with his birthday approaching, Leo had wanted to do little more than to crawl into bed and fall asleep with Cristiano holding him from behind; Gerard, Neymar and him had spend the majority of the afternoon getting the baking and general meal prep for his birthday done after they had finished training and while he had loved baking, it had worn him out more than he had thought it would.

He had not only cursed himself, but Cristiano as well. It had not been a problem for them to change their routine for a day but Junior, being a three-year-old toddler, had been rather dependant on having a steady routine and being more or less forced to stay up past midnight had definitely not been a part of his regular routine. _Maybe I should give him a spare key_ , Leo had thought as he nipped at his tea, and if he would not have been so tired he would have blushed at what that thought had implied. The house had been quiet, maybe even a bit too quiet. The constant ticking of the clock on the wall behind him had been the only sound in the kitchen and Leo really had to fight in order to keep his eyes from falling shut. Since he had been so focused on staying awake while staring into his half empty cup of tea rather forlorn, he had flinched hard enough to nearly knock it over when the doorbell had rung throughout the house.

His heart may have somersaulted and a blush may have risen into his face, but he had tried to ignore it and the way he had still been so excited to see Cristiano even close to a year and a half into their relationship, quickly typing in the security code so that Cristiano had been able to open the gate of the driveway without causing the alarm to go off. He had tried, though failed, to rub the blush out of his cheeks and had drawn in a breath to steady himself while he had worked on getting the door unlocked to let his boyfriend in. Cristiano had been balancing his sleeping son on his hip and had held his rucksack and suitcase with his free arm; the three-year-old had been fully slumped against Cristiano, had his arms loosely draped around his father’s neck and his head pillowed on Cristiano’s shoulder and one look at Junior had told Leo just how exhausted the toddler must have been. “Hey,” Leo had whispered, mustering an honest but tired smile as he had opened the door wider so that Cristiano could move into the house without slamming either his luggage or his son against the door frame.

The Portuguese had answered with an equally quiet hello, kissing Leo’s cheek before he had set his suitcase and rucksack down next to the shoe rack, “Where can I put him down?”

“I put up the travel bed in the guest room,” Leo had answered, his voice still not raised above a whisper because the last thing he had wanted had been to wake the sleeping toddler and Cristiano had nodded and had kissed his cheek before he had set out for the stairs, moving a gentle hand over his son’s back. Leo had watched him go, shaking his head. He had know that it would be a miracle if Junior would not wake up to be cranky. With a weary sigh Leo had made sure that the front door had been locked and had moved back into the kitchen to drink the rest of his tea and to put the used dishes into the dishwasher. The clock had read 1:15, which Leo had acknowledged with another, drawled-out sigh.

“Sorry that it’s gotten so late, bebê.” He had turned around where he had been standing at the then closed dishwasher and he had offered Cristiano a tired smile, staying on the spot while Cristiano had crossed the room to gather him into his arms, “I hope you’re not too mad at me.” The older man had tightened his arms around Leo a bit more, who had hummed into the kiss and had smiled against his boyfriend’s lips. A shudder had gone through Leo’s body at the first touch of Cristiano’s tongue against his own. God, how he had wished that he could get that every day instead of having to wait weeks. He had let out a small, confused sound when the Portuguese had laughed and had deepened their kiss for just a moment prior to pulling back. “Are you wearing _chapstick_ , bebê?”

“What?”

Cristiano had taken Leo’s face into his hands and had looked down at him with a grin and a teasingly raised eyebrow, causing the younger man to blush a shade darker, “You taste like... blueberries?” He had laughed at the choked sound which had escaped Leo before he could have suppressed it, lowering his head to kiss him again.

“Tea,” Leo had brought out between two kisses, “I-I had tea while I waited for you.”

“Mhm.” Cristiano had not broken the kiss as he had moved his hands away from Leo’s face to rest them on his waist, where they had lingered for a few seconds before he had slipped them under the hem of Leo’s shirt to stroke the naked skin of the younger man’s back, “That’s a shame, I could get used to it.” Leo had trembled at the warmth those touches had triggered and if he would not have been so utterly exhausted, he might have done some touching of his own but given the time of night and the way that his eyelids had been too heavy, he had only leaned against Cristiano, smiling to himself when his boyfriend had pressed a kiss into his hair. Cristiano had continued to stroke his back and even though had been yearning for his bed, Leo had not wanted to speak up and ruin the moment. It had been the Portuguese who had eventually spoken first, “Come on bebê, let’s go to bed, hm?”

“God yes,” Leo had groaned and Cristiano had dropped a kiss atop his head, taking one of Leo’s hands to lead him upstairs.

They had not really spoken while they had brushed their teeth and Cristiano had gone through his skin care routine; Leo had stood against the doorframe, feeling the inexplicable urge to watch his boyfriend instead of heading straight for bed, something that Cristiano had commented with a wink and a chuckle, “Like what you’re seeing, bebê?” Leo had groaned when his head had come in contact with his pillow a couple of minutes later; he had barely registered how Cristiano had flicked off the lights and had smiled down at him as he had pulled the duvet over him before he had lay down next to him. Cristiano had draped an arm around Leo’s waist, gently moving him back until Leo’s back had been flush against his upper body and they had been cuddled together as closely as they could have done it without either of them ending up being uncomfortable, “Goodnight, bebê. Eu te amo, espero que você tenha um ótimo dia amanhã.”

Leo had smiled into the darkness of his bedroom, intertwining his fingers with Cristiano’s, “I love you too.”

༻✦༺

When Leo had woken up on his birthday, there had been no one in bed with him, Cristiano’s arm had no longer been draped over him and he had no longer been cuddled against a strong chest, but a dreamy smile had grown on his face nonetheless as he had rolled over onto his back and then onto his left side so that he had been facing the windows. Cristiano had had opened them, resulting in the floor-length curtains to billow without making a sound and even though it might have been a bit soppy, Leo had not stopped smiling. He had been happy. The rays of the warm morning sun had landed directly on his face, enticing him to close his eyes and sink back deeper into his pillow; Leo had known that there had still been a few things he had needed to get done, but had not made any move to get up. The first guests - Neymar and Gerard with their respective boyfriends - had not been due to come over before two in the afternoon which had meant that there had been enough time for just Cristiano, Junior and Leo. What more could he have possibly wished for?

He had continued to lie, wrapped up in his duvet and with a smile on his face, and had only opened his eyes when he had perceived what unmistakably had been Junior’s giggling and Cristiano’s hushed voice, “Shhh meu amor, fique quieto. Leo não é uma pessoa matinal, então precisamos ficar quietos, okay?”

“Leo,” the three-year-old had squealed, and Leo had been left suppressing a snort at the way that Cristiano had drawled out a sigh, “Leeeooo!”

“Isso não foi o que eu quis dizer, Junior.” Leo’s smile had widened and he had sat up against the headboard, waiting for Cristiano and the little boy to come into sight, but his smile had died down when he had needed to press his lips together in a rather futile attempt to keep the blushing at bay. Junior had run into the room, all giggles and bouncing curls and Cristiano had been a few steps behind him, his tongue caught between his teeth as he had balanced a tray with both hands - a tray that, as far as Leo had been able to tell from the distance, had been loaded with quite a few of Leo’s favourite things. The smile with which Cristiano had greeted him had almost been blinding, “Oh look at that nino, he woke up on his own. Feliz aniversário bebê, eu te amo muito.”

Leo had cleared his throat, hoping that his voice would not come out trembling, “T-Thank you...” Cristiano had grinned from ear to ear, walking over to the king-sized bed to place the tray in Leo’s lap and kissing the younger man’s cheek as he had done so. Leo had hardly been able to believe his luck, his boyfriend had made him dulce de leche pancakes, his absolute favourites which he had not had in quite some time. The pancakes had been served together with a Latte Macchiato, a glass of orange juice and a bowl of mixed berries that definitely had not been in Leo’s fridge the day before but Leo had not looked at it for too long because his attention had been claimed by Junior, who had whined impatiently where he had tried to climb onto the bed on his own.

Cristiano had kissed his boyfriend’s cheek once more, only then tending to his toddler son and picking him off the floor. “Happy birthday!” the three-year-old had squealed and Junior had blatantly ignored Cristiano’s admonition to be careful, setting out to clamber over to Leo but his father had snatched him back up before he could have reached the Argentine and knock over the tray in the process.

“Acalme-se,” Cristiano had repeated with a sterner tone of voice, holding his son for a moment and only sitting him down beside Leo once he had stopped squirming like crazy. Leo had put his cutlery down, having been about to take the first bite from his pancakes, and had lifted his arm to allow Junior to cuddle up against him.

“Thank you niño,” he had whispered, pressing a kiss into the boy’s curls. “I love you.”

The three-year-old had wrapped both of his arms around Leo’s left one to hug it, smiling up at him angelically enough to make Leo’s heart clench. “Leo can I have that?” Junior had asked with a small voice, having pointed a finger at the stack of pancakes.

“No. You already had your breakfast, I made it for Leo,” Cristiano had cut in; he had moved a bit closer to Leo, propping his elbow up on the headboard and slotting a hand into his boyfriend’s hair. One of his eyebrows had arched when the younger man had snorted and had through Junior’s curls in return.

“Of course you can, niño.” Leo had picked the cutlery back up, had put a piece of pancake onto his fork and had held it to the boy’s mouth.

Out of the corner of his eye he had how Cristiano had opened his mouth, ready to say something, but had ended up sighing and shaking his head instead, still combing through Leo’s hair, “God you really _are_ spoiling him, bebê.”

Leo had clicked his tongue, “That’s not true,” and had eaten a piece of pancake himself as if to underline the truth of what he had said before he had handed the fork to Junior again, who had hummed in appreciation. “Don’t be so mean, Cris.”

“Mean Pai,” Junior had giggled, holding his hands to his mouth as if to hide the fact that he had been giggling, “you’re _mean_ , Pai!” He had been utterly unimpressed by the look he had received from his father and had instead clapped his hands together, waiting for Leo to give him more of the sweet breakfast treat.

“You two love to team up against me, don’t you? I bet that you soon won’t even need me anymore.” Instead of answering verbally, Leo had grinned at Cristiano and had popped a raspberry into his mouth. “This is unbelievable,” the Portuguese had huffed, but the way that the corners of his mouth had twitched had given away that he had not actually been serious. Not that Leo had expected him to be. “Você verá o que você ganha com isso!”

As he had somehow already suspected it, Leo had ended up getting only half of his own breakfast because Junior had practically devoured the other half of everything but the Latte Macchiato so as if Cristiano had not fed him at all. The three-year-old had settled against Leo with a sigh once he had been done, pillowing his head on Leo’s chest, “Are you full now, niño?”

“Yeah.”

Smiling, Leo had kissed the top of Junior’s head and had nuzzled his curls for a moment, “That’s good.”

“He’s getting big and strong,” Cristiano had stated, “aren’t you, Junior? Um menino tão grande.”

“No,” the toddler had said rather seriously, scowling at his father as if he had offended him and Leo had snorted into his Latte Macchiato glass. He might have missed the days when Junior had been smaller from time to time, but seeing the boy speak up against Cristiano had been better than he had thought it could be.

“É melhor você cuidar do seu tom,” the Portuguese had laughed and had reached out to ticke his son’s side, “seu pirralho,” making Junior squeal and jump onto Leo’s lap in an attempt to get away from the tickling hand. “Behave,” Cristiano had emphasised as he had taken the tray from Leo after the younger man had put down his then empty Latte Macchiato glass down for the final time and other than just a mere moment ago, Junior had nodded, obviously taking Cristiano’s words serious as a three-year-old could have done it. He had shifted a bit on Leo’s lap and had made grabby hands at his father, who had leaned down to kiss his forehead, “Good boy.”

Cristiano had kissed Leo’s forehead as well before he had stood from the bed and had walked out ot the bedroom, actually humming a happy tune as he had done so. While it had been rather tempting for Leo to stay in bed and cuddle with Junior, he had cringed at the prospect of the boy’s sticky hands all over his linens and so he had drawn him into his arms, eliciting a giggle from the toddler. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up - I’ll play with you after that, okay?

Junior had shaken his head, pulling back to look at Leo with puppy dog eyes, “Can we play now?”

If Cristiano’s son would not have been in dire need to get washed up, Leo probably would have failed to resist that certain look, “Oh no niño, I can't have you running around all messy like this and your Pai wouldn't be too happy with us either, so I'll clean you up and _then_ we can play _whatever_ you want, yeah?”

“Yeees!”

He had blown raspberries against Junior’s cheek, making the toddler laugh bouncing him a bit as he had carried him into the nearby bathroom. Leo him down onto the closed toilet lid with an exaggerated groan as if he had been too heavy for him to carry around. “You really liked those pancakes, didn’t you? You have dulce de leche all over your face, niño!” Leo had winked at Junior before he had turned around and had fetched a washcloth from underneath the sink, taking the boy’s chin into his hand to gently wipe the stickiness off his face. He had smiled at the way that Junior had giggled when the washcloth had tickled him under his jaw and had hurried to clean the boy’s hands as well, sensing that the three-year-old had becoming a bit impatient. “Let’s just brush our teeth, okay cariño? Can you sit still for that?”

Junior had nodded and had kicked his short legs into the air, grinning up at Leo, “Uh-huh, I can!”

“That’s a good boy.” Leo had continued to listen to the toddler’s babbling as he had taken the children’s toothbrush out of the holder beside the one which had held Cristiano’s and his own and had put a small dollop of children’s toothpaste onto hit, wetting it before he had moved back to the toilet and had squatted down in front of Junior. He had not needed to tell the toddler to open his mouth, chucking at the way that Junior had let out an “aaah!” as he had opened his mouth as wide as he probably could have done it. Cristiano’s son had continued to kick his legs a little while Leo had brushed his teeth and Leo had hummed at the incoherent babbling, keeping a hand under Junior’s chin to keep his head tilted back a bit. Junior had already been giggling again when Leo had picked him up to allow him to spit the rest of the toothpaste into the sink and had washed his face once more, pressing a kiss atop his head after he had set him back down onto his feet.

Leo had hurried to get through his own shortened morning routine, allowing Junior to hug his legs all the while. He had still been dressed in his pyjamas - an oversized CR7 shirt that Cristiano had given him some time ago and a pair of boxer shirts and considering that both Cristiano and Junior had already been dressed, it only would have been adequate for him to not strut around in his pyjamas but since it had been his birthday, Leo had allowed himself to endulge in a bit of laziness. At least until the first guests would make an appearence later that day. “Do you know where your Pai put your toys, niño?”

“Yeah!” Leo had quickly taken Junior by the hand before the toddler could have run off on his own however, as the prospect of Junior taking, and accidentally falling down the stairs had made him feel quite uneasy.

“Let’s just go and get my phone, yeah? Then we’ll go down.” Other than expected, the boy had not made a fuss and Leo had used the quick detour to the bedroom to take his phone from the nightstand, knowing that he would eventually have to spend a good amount of time responding to the countless messages and phone calls he had received so far even if if had been tiring. He had kept Junior’s hand in his, walking him down the stairs instead of carrying the toddler down the stairs to see how good he could manage it and he had let out a low sight of relief when it had become clear that Junior had been quite confident. Leo had kissed the top of Junior’s head, “Get your toys, niño.”

The three-year-old had not needed to be told twice before he had ran off to the living room and Leo had watched him until he had disappeared out of sight, only resuming to the kitchen once he had only heard the toddler. Cristiano had been standing by the sink, drying a couple of dishes he must have rinsed while Leo and Junior had still been upstairs and the younger man had snorted at the sight of the discarded paper bags beside the trash can. The Portuguese had turned around to look at him in surprise, “What?”

Even if he would have tried, Leo never would have managed to copy Cristiano’s trademark gesture of cocking an eyebrow so he had retorted to pouting instead as he had set his phone aside. “Why did you get up so early?” He had said it without losing the exaggerated pout, “You _always_ do that. I think that I’ve never once woken up with you there beside me, Cristiano.”

His own face had heated up a bit at the way that a faint blush had spread out over Cristiano’s tanned cheeks and he had only blushed more profusely when Cristiano had put the tea towel down and had moved to pick something up from the kitchen table that Leo somehow had not spotted earlier. “I...”, the older man had cleared his throat, “well, I had to pick these up and... stopped by to get a few other things.” The older man had managed to hide his face behind the impressive bouquet of lavender roses and if Leo would not have been so stunned, he probably would have wondered as for why Cristiano had acted as if he had hit a spot.

The younger man had been more than a bit embarrassed, realising that he had sounded terribly ungrateful and instead of saying anything, Leo had crossed the kitchen and had taken the bouquet of roses from his boyfriend. His heart had been racing when he had looked up at Cristiano. “Thank you,” he had choked out, turning away to carefully set the vase down onto the kitchen table before he could have ended up dropping it. Cristiano’s arms had come to wrap around him from behind and Leo had gasped when Cristiano had used his hold on him to turn him back around.

The Portuguese had kept one arm around Leo’s waist, had dropped a hand to his ass and had used that hold to effortlessly hoist him up, causing Leo to throw his arms around Cristiano’s neck in return. Cristiano had let out a breathy laugh into the crook of Leo’s neck as he had carried him over to the countertop, where he had sat him down as if he had weighed nothing and Leo had dropped his head onto Cristiano’s shoulder in return as his boyfriend’s hands had explored the skin under his shirt. They had done that for a good few moments before they had splayed on his thighs, grabbing them in a way that had caused Leo’s breath to hitch. He had not been allowed to hide his face for long, however, as Cristiano had let go of his thighs to cup it and tilt his head so that he had been able to kiss him. The older man had hummed, obviously in appreciation, when Leo had crossed his ankles behind his back to lock him in place. “I missed this,” he had muttered and even though Leo had known that it had just been over a week, he had not tried to argue.

It had not been as if he had felt any different about the fact that their relationship had been a long distance one; whenever he had thought about how he, quite possibly, would not be able to have _this_ every day for a good few more years he had been ready to burst into tears. God, how much Leo had hated it. “Yeah,” had thus been all that he had whispered back, bringing his hands up to fold them in Cristiano’s nape, his thumbs stroking the soft hairs they had found there. His breath had hitched once again when his boyfriend had nibbled at his bottom lip for just a second before he had abandoned his mouth to kiss the sensitive spot under his jaw instead, hints of teeth being followed by broad stroked of tongue. Leo had squeezed the back of the Portuguese’s neck, “ _Fuck_.”

Cristiano had huffed a laugh, simply resuming what he had been doing and while Leo had feared that there would be at least one bruise left behind, he never would have considered to tell him to stop. He had blushed to a darker shade when Cristiano had squeezed his waist and had whispered his answer against his neck, “Later, bebê. You need to be patient today.”

Junior’s childlike laughter had reached them before Leo could have stuttered anything and when the pitter-patter of footfalls had followed right after, Leo had tried to push Cristiano away from him as if he had been burned. Cristiano might have stopped kissing him, but had kept his arms around him as if he had wanted to convince the younger man without speaking it out. “Leo!” Junior’s cheeks had been tinted pink and he had been a bit out of breath when he had bursted into the kitchen, holding an armful of the horse figures Leo had bought him for his birthday to his chest, “Horses! Leo look I have my horses, can you play with me now?”

“Sure, of course niño,” Leo had croaked out, clearing his throat in order to get his voice back under control and Cristiano had kissed the corner of his mouth before he had pulled his arms away and had helped him off the counter so that he had been able to tend to the three-year-old. It would not have been an exaggeration if Leo would have claimed that his heart had doubled in size at the way that Junior had smiled up at him with wide, eager eyes and he had dropped a hand atop the boy’s head, combing through his hair once. “Come on, let’s go back to the living room.”

“Yaaay!” Cristiano’s son had let out a squeal and had run off, calling for Leo to follow him as if his life had depended on it and by the time that Leo had reached the living room, Junior had already sat down on the fluffy rug by the couch and begun to put the horses up.

Smiling to himself and moving to sit cross-legged on the floor, Leo had watched how the young boy had arranged his toys in a way that had probably been perfectly logical in his mind. Junior had divided the figures up into two piles, his brows pulled together and the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth in a gesture of concentration. “Which can I play with, niño?”

“This one,” Junior had said and Leo’s smile had widened at the way that Junior’s face had screwed up for a second as he had pushed one of the pile of toys into Leo’s direction.

“Oh thank you. They’re mine?”

“Yes!”

It had not taken long until the two of them had gotten engaged in the game and since Leo had been focused on Junior and Junior only, he had not noticed how Cristiano had leaned against the doorframe and had recorded the scene. “You better watch out,” Leo had whispered with an ominous tone of voice, which alone had been enough to make the three-year-old giggle and clap his hands and Leo had put one of his horse toys in front of Junior’s. “My stallion wants to fight yours, niño.”

“Nooo!” With a roar that had resounded through the living room, Junior had banged his toy against Leo’s, just barely missing the Argentine’s fingers, “I win!”

Leo had gasped. “I don’t want to fight,” he had said with a high-pitched, in-character voice, grinning almost from ear to ear simply because seeing Junior having so much fun had made him happy. For how long the two of them had gotten to play undisturbed, but he had let out a small, disappointed sound which would have been fit for a three-year-old rather than him when Cristiano had called out his name to get his attention.

The Portuguese had thrown his head back to laugh, “I’m sorry bebê, but Mãe texted to let us know that she’s on her way from the airport and I doubt that you want her to see you in your underwear.”

Blushing at the sheer prospect of that ever happening, Leo had put the horse toy down and had uncrossed his legs to stand up. Junior had gasped when Leo had stood up, the toddler’s eyes growing wide as if he had been ready to burst into tears and Leo had crouched down to kiss the top of Junior’s head, “I’ll be back in a few minutes niño, I just need to get dressed okay?”

“You come back?”

The lump that had formed in Leo’s throat had surprised him and he forced himself to smile, “I promise, cariño.” He had only gotten back up after Junior had nodded and had jogged through the room, deliberately ignoring how Cristiano’s hand had brushed over his ass when he had walked past his boyfriend. Leo had hurried even more than he had already wanted to do it, solely because he had wanted to come after the promise he had given Junior as he had known that he would not be able to play with Cristiano’s son once he would have a birthday party to take care of. He had put on a dark pair of trousers, one which Cristiano had liked a lot on him, and had paired it with [a matching shirt](https://imgur.com/a/wXU5zXz), incredibly glad that he had not needed to put on anything too fancy. Cristiano might have liked it, but Leo could have lived without it. When it had come to clothes, his boyfriend and him had still been polar opposites and in truth, Leo had only waited for the day on which Cristiano would start to act like the stylist he had never wanted. “How do I look?” he had asked after having skipped down the stairs.

His heart had felt so full that it might have bursted at the way that Cristiano’s smile had grown both wider and softer. The older man had moved into his space, had cupped his face and had kissed him, drawing a whimper from him, “You’re beautiful, even if you’re wearing those hideous jeans shorts you’ve been refusing to throw out for a decade.” Cristiano had kissed a corner of his mouth as if to placate him, but Leo had snorted nonetheless.

“They’re comfortable!”

“They’re _jeans shorts_ , bebê, and it’s 2016,” Cristiano had stated as if he had been explaining it to his toddler son. “You should’ve left them all the way back in 2005.” Leo had rolled his eyes, hitting his boyfriend’s chest without any real strength behind it. “Hey, now don’t be mad at me for telling the truth.”

Rolling his eyes again, he had allowed Cristiano to kiss him again before he had dislodged himself from the taller man, “Did she say when she’ll be here?”

“Can’t be longer than fifteen minutes now.”

Junior had not moved from where he had been sitting on the rug when Leo had left him a few minutes ago and the three-year-old’s face had lit up as he had spotted Leo, “You back!”

Leo had ruffled through Junior’s curls, “Of course niño. I told you, didn’t I?”, lowering himself into the same cross-legged position as earlier. He had smiled at the toddler, “Do you still want me to play with you?”

“Uh-huh!” Cristiano’s son had nodded rather vehemently without looking back up from the toys he had been playing with and Leo had propped his chin up on his hand as he had listened to the childlike prattle he might not have been able to understand all that much, but had thought to be endearing all the same.

༻✦༺

Dolores had realised that the look of surprise had been visible on her face when Cristiano had laughed after he had opened the door for her, “Sorry to disappoint you Mãe, but Leo’s playing with Junior right now and you know how he is when they’re together.”

She had shaken her head and had widened her smile, pulling her son into a quick embrace, “I know, menino.” Even if she would not have paid attention to it, she never could have missed just how proud and how _happy_ Cristiano had looked whenever he had talked about Junior and Leo. Everyone could have seen how good the relationship had been for him.

“Let me just... take this and bring it upstairs.” Cristiano had taken Dolores’ suitcase and had hurried upstairs to put it into the guest bedroom, taking three steps in a stride and Dolores had huffed a laugh while she had watched her son go. God had known how happy she had been for her son and grandson, and how grateful that Leo had become a part of her family. She had kept that thought in her mind and had gotten Leo’s present out of her handback as she had made her way to the living room where she had already heard her grandson’s giggling coming from.

༻✦༺

“Avó!”

It had only been at Junior’s excited squeal that Leo had looked up and he had turned around just in time to see Junior throwing himself at Dolores and Cristiano appearing in the door as well. He had set the horse toy he had been playing with down, failing to suppress a faint blush as he had brushed an imaginary crease out of his trousers after he had stood up from the floor. “Docinho.” He might have told himself that he had not hurried to accept the hug Dolores had offered to him, but if he would have moved any further he very well could have stumbled over his own feet, “Happy birthday, docinho. Oh, how happy I am to see you today!” Cristiano’s mother had kept him in her arms for a good few moments to rub his back and Leo had melted a bit against her, grateful for the motherly touch he had received from her despite the fact that he had lacked the courage to actually voice it out, “How are you?”

If Leo’s voice had happened to tremble a bit, Dolores had swiftfully ignored it, “I’m... very good, thank you Dolores.”

“No pain of any kind?”

He had been aware of how Cristiano’s gaze had come to rest on him, gauging not very inconspicuously, which had been as for why he had smiled even though Dolores had not been able to see it, “No, none. It’s all looking good, I’m feeling good.”

The older woman had muttered something in Portuguese under her breath as she had pulled back to get a look at the younger man, bringing a hand up to cup it against his face. She had patted her cheek like she had done it to Junior a few moments ago, “That’s what I hoped I’d get to hear, docinho. I’m so glad that you’re all happy and healthy.”

A bit unsure of what he could have said as well as due to the lump which had formed in his throat, Leo had nodded and had hugged her once more to thank her, since words had not been working for him. Being on the receiving end of motherly attention had been like balm and a stab to his heart at the same time - when he had checked his phone earlier, all he had gotten from his own mother had been a short, rather generic text. Not even a call, just a message containing a meager sentence. Sure, he had been aware of how much his family and him had grown apart over the last two years but it had still been far from painless and Leo had fought hard to keep the tears out of his vision as he had taken the present Dolores had held out for him, “T-Thank you...”

“I hope that you like it, docinho.” It had only been after Leo had turned around to walk over to the couch and his back had been turned towards Dolores and Cristiano that he had quickly wiped at his face to get rid of the unwanted tears. He had sat down with a shaky sigh, playing the gift in his lap to unwrap it and Cristiano had sat down on one, Dolores on his other side to watch him. “And?” Leo had not reacted to Dolores’ question right away, a bit stunned by what he had been holding. It had been a cooking book with blank pages for him to add his own recipes - and a photo of him, Junior and Dolores on its cover. The snapshot had been taken when they had been baking cookies for Christmas without him having noticed it. “I know that you cook and bake a lot and I thought that you’d like to have something so it’s all in one place. It’s what I like, too.”

Before Leo could have answered, Cristiano had draped an arm over his shoulder and had pulled him closer to press a kiss against his temple, his lips lingering for a long moment and the younger man had mustered quite a wide smile, “I like it a lot, thank you so much.”

Cristiano’s mother had laughed, tilting her head as she had looked at him, “Oh that’s good because Cris here wasn’t all so sure whether you’d actually like it or not, it made me quite nervous about whether I made the right choice by ordering it.”

“Mãe, por favor não diga isso,” Cristiano had muttered and when Leo had shifted to look up at him, he had seen that his boyfriend had been blushing quite a bit for the second time in one day. “Não diga a ele.”

He had not mentioned it, though, well aware of how little Cristiano would have liked to be asked about the reason behind his reaction and had wriggled out of the older man’s hold to stand up from the couch instead, “I can make you a coffee if you want to?”

“A Cappuccino would be lovely, docinho. Thank you.”

Leo never would have said it, never would have admitted it, but he would have liked to spend a bit more time with just his boyfriend, Junior and Dolores when Gerard had texted him that they had been on the way, but his smile had been honest when he had let Gerard, Neymar and their respective boyfriends into his house about an hour later. “Happy birthday,” all four of them had chirped in unison and Leo had squeaked almost embarrassingly loud as he had suddenly found himself wrapped-up in a pair of strong arms and lifted off his feet.

“Geri!”

The Catalan had snorted and had spun him around, causing the others to laugh. He had kissed the top of Leo’s head, “Happy birthday, Leo,” and had hugged Leo impossibly closer before he had put the smaller man back onto his own feet. “God, I can’t believe that I’m allowed to hug you like this since we’ve been thirteen!”

“Don’t you dare say that I didn’t grown a centimeter in sixteen years,” Leo had tried to retort, but he had known that he had not sounded all that convincing with a blushed face and Gerard’s arms still around him, holding him in a tight embrace.

“Excuse me, I’d _never_ say that,” Gerard had gasped with mock indignation. “You _have_ grown a lot... maybe two and a half centimeter?”

Laughing out loud, Leo had wriggled out of his best friend’s hold to hug Neymar and James at the same time, thanking them for coming after his invitation and their congratulations. He had paused when he had come to stand in front of Sergio, but when the Spaniard had smiled at him almost abashed, Leo had hugged him without further ado. Considering how terrible their first real interaction in private had gone, he had been glad that there had no longer been any real difficulties between them as long as their conversations had not revolved about football.

“Not to sound rude or anything but... where’s Junior?” Sergio’s smile had turned into a grin, “I need to see my little bro!”

Leo had shaken his head, “In the living room,” but had not really been able to listen how Sergio had called for his godson to come and greet him since he had been faced with the task of balancing a good half a dozen presents which Gerard, Neymar and James had given to him all at once, so as if they had planned it beforehand. The stack had been so high that he had not gotten to see where exactly he had been walking, which had promptly resulted in him banging right into the frame of the door that had lead to the living room and his entire face had burned up when everyone had shared a laugh over it.

“I’m glad that you’re more agile on the pitch, bebê,” Cristiano had laughed from where he had been sitting beside Dolores and Leo had muttered a string of not all that bad curses under his breath, trying to put the gifts down onto the coffee table without dropping one of them in the process while swiftly ignoring the comment his boyfriend had made. He had not needed to turn around to know that the hand which had come to rest on his back had been Neymar’s.

“We did prepare everything yesterday, no? Or is there something else that needs to be done?”

Leo had nodded, “Yeah,” and had turned around to smile at his best friend after all, “you two really did save me there.” He had failed to duck away when Neymar had brought a hand up to ruffle through his hair. “Ney!” It had only been after his hair had been a bit messed up that Leo had managed to get it to safety, hurrying to flatten it back down. “But you can help me in the kitchen if you want to it that’s what will keep you from ruining my hair!” Neymar might have given his eyes a roll, but had followed after him without a word of complain when he had left the gifts to be unwrapped later and had made a beeline for the kitchen.

It had not been necessary for Leo to mention it, his best friends had known how grateful he had been for their help because if he would have needed to try and battle through the preparations on his own. Together they had finished the baking as well as the cooking and had even cleaned it all up afterwards; if he would have invited more people than he had, however, he definitely would have hired a caterer because that would have been to much for him even if cooking and baking had happened to be his hobbies to some extent. Someone, probably Gerard, had connected their phone to the bluetooth speakers in the living room and had put on some music just as Leo had opened the double-winged door of the fride and had begun to hand a few bowls and plates to Neymar, who had placed them on the kitchen counter. Various salads that had only needed to be mixed, grilled meats and a few vegetarian options because Cristiano usually preferred them, fingerfood and dips as well as the cakes and cupcakes that had needed to rest in the fridge overnight.

“Leo?” Neymar had spoken up just after he had pulled the cling wrap off a plate of jalapeño poppers and Leo’s heart had skipped a beat, needing to clear his throat before he could have given a nod. He had busied himself with the ridiculous task of folding the used cling wrap, “Did you talk to anyone of your family today? At all?”

“No,” Leo had brought out maybe a bit too quickly and too chopped off. “My mother send me a message earlier but... well, I haven’t gotten around to answer it yet so... anyway,” he had cleared his throat, “could you check if there are any lemons in the fridge? We need them for the drinks.” He had been well aware of how Neymar had been looking at him for a few seconds and he had turned away a bit more to hide the fact that tears had been swimming in his eyes. It might have been rather easy for him to keep his voice from trembling and hide just how emotional he had been, but it would have been a useless, blatant lie if he would have tried to convince _himself_ that it had not hurt. Of course it had been painful.

“Here.” Neymar’s voice had been low and gentle as he had out the fruits down onto the counter in front of Leo, who had immediately grabbed them and had almost stumbled over his own feet when he had tried to get to the sink to wash them as quickly as he could have done it.

The sound of running water had been good enough of a cover to allow Leo to let out a sound that had stood somewhere between a sigh and a sob, there had been tears welling in his eyes while he had gently scrubbed the lemons but no matter how much he had tried, the tears had vehemently refused to back down and he had closed his eyes when a twin set of them had rolled down his face. Leo had hated it. He had not wanted to cry over something that had not been his fault and he had not have been able to change even if he would have liked to, but it had been unfathomable, all the more so since he never could have imagined himself treating Junior like his parents had been treating him for years. It had been made even worse by the certainty that his parents would have argued that Junior had not been his real child to begin with.

Leo had only wiped at his face after he had tried the lemons off and it had been then that Neymar had stepped into his space and had hugged him. His best friend had done so wordlessly, putting a hand into the back of Leo’s neck in a gesture of comfort and wrapping the other arm around him and while he had not bursted into tears like he had felt the urge to, he had trembled in Neymar’s embrace without being able to stop it. The Brazilian had clicked his tongue and had hugged Leo impossibly tighter. “I’m sorry,” he had whispered, pressing a kiss against Leo’s temple as he had held him close. “If there’s anything that I can do...”

“I don’t think that there’s anything that anyone could do,” Leo had muttered, stepping away from the embrace and wiping at his face rather roughly. “I don’t even know when it started, it’s just... We’re a family but then again we’re not.” It had been the truth, Leo would not have been able to state when he had first begun to distance himself from his immediate family because at first, he had done so unwittingly. Maybe it had started when he had not told them about the end of Antonella’s and his relationship, but when he had chosen to not tell them, especially his parents, about how Cristiano hand him had then been a couple it had been undeniable that he had done it deliberately. At that point, Dolores had been more of a mother to him than his own mother and Cristiano’s siblings had texted him more often than his own as well.

“Does Cris know how bad it is?”

Leo had shaken his head, fumbling with the hem of the towel he had used to dry the lemons with, “No, it would only make him mad...”

“Mad?”

He had let out a teary sigh and had wiped at his face once again, “Well not _mad_ mad, he just doesn’t understand why I won’t confront them. You know him, that’s how he does things.”

The laugh that Neymar had given in return had made Leo smile, “Yeah, I know. Do you want me to cut the lemons?”

“Nono, I can do it on my own.” Leo had taken the knife before Neymar could have reached for it, “You can go back to the others if you want to, I don’t want to keep you away from them. Oh and Luis, Sofia and Marc-André should be here soon too.”

Neymar had seemed to have taken the subtile hint and had left the kitchen without arguing that he had not been of any real help to Leo yet; Leo had leaned against the counter as soon as he had been alone, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to build his composure back up. The fact that being asked about his ties with his family had overwhelmed him had been a surprise. He had thought that he had been a lot more indifferent and Leo had forced himself to focus on the music that had been playing in the background while he had cut the lemons into sliced in order to put them into the water pitcher that had still been in the fridge.

Much to his relief, he had managed to stop breaking his mind over the misery that his once so happy family had turned out to be once Luis, Luis’ wife and Marc-André had made an appearance. They had all held himself back as much as they only could have done it - Cristiano and Luis might have glared at each other as they had shaken their hands obligatorily, but not a single insulting or provocating word had been exchanged between them. All of the guests had claimed a seat on the array of couches in Leo’s living room; the patio doors had been opened wide to allow to allow the soft breeze into the house and Leo’s mood had lifted a lot when his house had been filled with the sounds of music, carefree chattering and laughter. It had been a big change, considering how quiet it had been when Cristiano, Junior and Dolores had been in Madrid.

Having turned down everyone’s offer to help him, Leo had taken it onto himself to set up a small buffet with the food that Gerard, Neymar and him had prepared and a few different choices of drinks, alcoholic as well as non-alcoholic. He had been sure that there had been at least one camera on theem when Cristiano had, after he had set a stack of plates down onto the coffee table so that everyone had been able to take one, grabbed him by the wrist, had pulled him onto his lap and had wrapped his arms around him for an almost bone-crushing hug, making Leo squeak and the others laugh, “Cristiano!”

Cristiano had kept a strong hold on him and had peppered his cheeks with kisses much like he had done it with his toddler son, “Eu te amo baby, você realmente é o amor da minha vida. Olhe para você!”

“God,” Sergio had groaned from where he had been sitting on the opposite couch, the Spaniard had been grinning almost ridiculously wide as he had run his free hand through his hair while his other had not let go of Gerard’s thigh. “You two really are too much. Ugh, I can barely watch it!” Since Leo had his back turned towards Cristiano, he had not seen how his boyfriend had cocked an unamused eyebrow in response to what his teammate and best friend had said. “Yo Cris, I-I was just kidding,” Sergio had rowed back and Gerard had stolen a kiss from his boyfriend before he had pulled him along to check out the buffet.

“Cristiano-”

“Give me a kiss and I’ll think about letting you go, bebê,” the Portuguese had purred and Leo might have rolled his eyes, but had turned around in the older man’s lap and had taken his face into his hands to kiss him. He had smiled against Cristiano’s lips at the hum that his boyfriend had let out as much as at the feeling of Cristiano’s hands just grazing the curve of his ass but well aware of where they had been, he had climbed out of Cristiano’s lap before more heat could have collected in his stomach. Leo had been given a plate stacked with food a few moments later without having needed to get up, together with a kiss atop his head and a reminder to stay sitting down for once from Cristiano.

Junior had seemed happy enough where he had been sitting between Dolores and James, but no one had really been surprised when the three-year-old had clambered over his grandmother quite ruthlessly to plonk himself down onto Leo’s lap as if it had been his throne before he had resumed to munch on his chicken sandwich.

Over the music and the contant chattering, Leo almost would have missed the sound of the door bell being rung and in hindsight, he would often wish that he would not have heard it, or simply ignored it. His brows had pulled together because those that he had invited had all been there sitting on his couch. Cristiano had noticed his confusion, and he had leaned over to kiss Leo’s forehead before saying that he would go and see who it had been and had stood up, hurrying to the front door. Unable to either explain or suppress the feeling of uneasiness that had washed over him, he had laid his arms around the toddler in his lap and had kept his eyes fixed on the door of the living room in expectancy, waiting to find out who it had been that had invited themselves over. If it would have been physically possible, Leo would have been certain that his stomach had turned over and clenched until it had been an inch wide when Cristiano had come back into sight - Jorge, Leo’s father, following right after him.

Leo had drawn in a deep, cut-off breath through his nose, seeing the blank look on Cristiano’s face and the pure, unmasked rage on his father’s had robbed him of all the oxygen in his body. The others had fallen silent from one second to another and if it would not have been for the music that had still been playing, it would have been an almost eery scene. There had been nothing kind in his father’s gaze as Jorge had stared down at him and at Junior, who had been humming and eating in his state of childlike ignorance. “I’m sorry niño,” Leo had whispered, deliberately not looking at his father. He had lifted the three-year-old out of his lap and had put him down onto the couch, it had been painfully obvious that all of his friends had tried to look at anything other than Jorge and him.

Neither Leo nor his father had said a word while they had walked out of the room and if Leo’s hand had trembled when he had closed the door behind him, he had tried to blend it out. What had been the worst about the entire situation had been the way that he had felt as if he had come face to face with his agent, not his father. Prior to that afternoon, his father had never really scared him. There had still been a heavy silence hovering between them when they had somehow ended up to stand in the kitchen and when Jorge had spoken, finally or inevitably, his voice had been cutting. It had made Leo flinch.

**[!]**

“What do you think you’re doing?”, his father had snapped. “Hanging out with Ronaldo like it’s nothing? Holding his son and cuddling with him like you’re actually supposed to do it?” The younger man had managed not to flinch that time, even though Jorge’s voice had been steadily growing louder and his father’s head had looked as if it had been seconds away from exploding, “Did you swallow your tongue or what? Fucking hell, I wanted to come here to congratulate my son on his birthday who apparently thinks that he’s so above answering my calls.”

“Dad, I didn’t-”

Jorge’s fist had slammed down onto the counter hard enough to make the dishes rattle and his son take an involuntary step back; Leo had clenched his hands into fists where they had been handing at his sides to hide the fact that the trembling in them had been getting worse. “So you’re actually friends with that piece of shit?” The older man had let out a cold, disdainful laugh, “Are you that desperate to make friends, Lionel?” Despite Leo’s best attempt, the words which had been snarled at him had started to reach him and had, figuratively speaking, clasped a sling around his neck, making it impossible for him to get a single sound out. Jorge had snorted yet again and had shaken his head when he had simply eyed his son up and down, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards as if he had been repulsed by what he had been seeing, “Well, this certainly won’t help with any of the rumours.”

“What rumours,” Leo had choked out. Blood had been rushing in his ears due to his heart racing and there had been tears in his eyes for the second time that day when his question had ended up being the last reason his father had apparently needed to lose himself in his anger.

“What rumours? _What rumours?_ ” Given the volume of Jorge’s voice, those in the living room had probably been able to hear him loud and clear but Leo had not wasted a second thought on that because his father had strode over to him and had poked a finger against his chest hard enough for it to hurt, “I’m not _stupid_ , you can’t tell me that you don’t know that they’re all talking about how you’re probably bending over for Cristiano fucking _Ronaldo_ by now!” 

The younger man had bursted into tears at that, but Jorge had not even granted him a chance to retort anything in his defence, “Ever since you were stupid enough to hang out, to actually meet up with him after the Clásico everyone is talking about the two of you behind the scene!” Wrapping his arms around himself simply because there had been nothing else that Leo could have done then that his father had talked himself into rage, “I’m being forced to listen to how my son has been sucking up to Ronaldo _for months_ or even since he left his girlfriend, do you have _any_ idea of what that means, hm? Being forced to ask myself if my son could be a _faggot?_ ”

Leo had known that his face had visibly fallen just like his heart had dropped into the pit of his stomach. He had been insulted a million times in his life, had been called every degrading name under the sun but he had never once been insulted in such a way, and for it to come out of his father’s mouth... “I love him.” The whispered confession had left him before he had even realised it.

“What did you just say?”

“I-”

“ _What did you just say?_ ”

“I-I’m in love with him.” In a stark contrast to Jorge’s voice, his own had not been barely audible and when his father had not had not answered, Leo had taken it as a hint to continue, “Dad... Cristiano and I, we’ve been together for more than a year-”

He had never seen the smack coming and the sheer strength with which his father had hit him had send him stumbling against the fridge, causing the bottles and dishes to rattle. “You’re a faggot?! Hell no, forget it! _No_ son of mine will ever be allowed to be a _faggot!_ ” It had probably been the immense shock of having been hit rather than the pain it had triggered that had made Leo sob more openly, he had forgotten all about how there had been almost been a dozen nearby to listen to it. Jorge had roughly grabbed him by the front of his shirt to pull him back into a more upright position and Leo had flinched harder than he had ever done it before, bringing his trembling hands up to shield his face out of reflex since he had thought that he had been about to be hit again, “A _faggot_ , Lionel? Your mother and I raised you better than that, what the hell do you think you’re doing!”

“You didn’t do anything!” Leo had shouted back, suddenly feeling a surge of anger mix into the already confusing mess of fear, confusion and utter disbelief which had given him the strength to free himself out of his father’s hold.

“I did _everything_ for you!”

“You haven’t done anything for me for years!”

Jorge had tried to grab him by the front of his shirt once more, but Leo had practically jumped back in order to put enough distance between him and his father. “You would be nothing without your mother and me, Lionel! And what’s the thanks for that? Did you show your gratitude by breaking up with Nella and becoming a goddamn faggot for Ronaldo? By bending over to be his little bitch, hm? Is _that_ the thanks for everything that I did?”

“It’s _you_ who would be nothing without me!” Leo’s voice had been getting closer to breaking and there had been tears making their way down his throbbing face, “You work _for_ _me_ , you’re on _my_ payroll!”

“I’m your father!”

Leo had never seen his father so enraged, so out of control, bit not in twenty-nine years and he would later on be sure that it had been the adrenaline which had stopped him from becoming any more scared, “Your’re-You’re my _agent!_ ” Neither of them had perceived how the music had since been turned off, and they could not have know that the door had been opened as well. “Dolores is more of a parent to me than you and Mum have been for years!” The sobs which had wrecked through him had been strong enough to shake his entire body. “I-I want you to get out my house, right now!” 

That what he had said had earned him another sleep across the face, Leo had barely registered. His face had already been burning and his head had since been broken; even though he had known that it had been futile he still had harboured a tiny hope of getting to reconciliate with his parents, but then that hope had been destoyed as well.

“I won’t allow my son to talk to me like that, just like I won’t ever accept him being a _faggot_ and Ronaldo’s little _bitch_ on top of that! Look at you, you’re a disgrace to my family’s name. Did you never ask yourself just why we didn’t bother to invite you, hm? It’s because you’re a pathetic little faggot, that’s why! I don’t _ever_ want to have anyone like you sitting at _my_ table!” Jorge had slapped his open hand against Leo’s chest, forcefully enough to make his son stumble a few steps backwards, “You’re no longer my son! As long as you’re on that faggot trip of yours we don’t want to have _anything_ to do with you!”

“And-And you’re fired!” Leo had thrown back at the older man and even though his voice had not been all that raised, it had broken for good. Through the tears in his eyes, he had not actually made out his father.

“You can’t-”

He had downright thrown himself against Jorge, had grabbed him by his shirt with trembling hands and had begun to push him out of the kitchen so hastily that it had nearly resulted in the both of them tumbling to the ground, “You’re fired! Fired! Get out, get the fuck out of my house! Right now! Get the fuck out! Now!” The older man had muttered a string of curses under his breath when he had stumbled over a pair of shoes that had been standing by the front door and Leo had almost torn the door open, “ _Get out!_ ” With that and rather unceremoniously, Leo had thrown the door close as soon as Jorge had stepped over the treshold and it had been a wonder that it had withstood it all.

After all of the shouting and screaming, the deafening silence which had followed had been overwhelming; Leo’s ears had been ringing, the side of his face that his father had hit had throbbed quite painfully and the way that blood rushing in his ears had made him feel like he had been about to faint. _You’re no longer my son_ , had repeated in his mind but before the next, desperate sob could have knocked him off his feet, there had been a pair of arms around him and had collapsed against Cristiano after having only so managed to turn around. His fingers must have been digging quite painfully into Cristiano’s back as he had held onto him, but the Portuguese had not complained. In fact, Cristiano had not said anything at all. He had merely hugged the smaller man to his chest as tightly as he could have done it and other than Leo’s heartbroken sobs, it had only been Junior’s quiet whimpers that could have been heard.

Leo had not been able to do anything other than crying, his mind failing to process what had just happened. For how long Cristiano and him had stood there he could not have possibly said, but Cristiano had eventually sighed, had kissed the top of Leo’s head and had pulled back a bit to get a look at his boyfriend but Leo had only responded by hiding his face further against Cristiano’s chest. “Bebê?” When Cristiano still had not gotten a proper reaction, he had not hesitated before he had picked up the younger man. “It’s okay,” he had whispered, only setting out for the stairs after Leo had draped his arms around his neck and had wrapped his legs around his waist, making it easier for him to carry him. “I’m here bebê, it’s okay.”

Cristiano’s voice had been quiet and gentle, but Leo had barely been able to hear how he had been talking to him as his sobs yet had to die down and while he had noticed how his boyfriend had carried him up the stairs, it had been a surprise for him when he had suddenly felt his mattress underneath him. Without saying a word, he had turned over onto his stomach to press his face into the pillow so as if he could have hidden from the world. He had not heard how his boyfriend had sighed, but he had felt the hand that had gently combed through his hair a few times before the cover had been pulled over him even though he had been fully dressed. “It’s okay if you want to stay here for a bit, bebê. I’ll take care of the rest, you just stay here, yeah? Sinto muito, eu nunca quis que acontecesse assim.” Cristiano had left after he had pressed another kiss into the younger man’s hair, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him and Leo had kept his face hidden away even once he had been alone.

 _You’re no longer my son, no son of mine will ever be allowed to be a faggot._ Every time that he had heard those words resounding in his mind, the knife which had been pushed into his heart had twisted around a bit more. He would need to find a manager, but that had not been his biggest worry as he had been lying there. What if his father would talk? What if he would out both him and Cristiano against their wills? What if... Cristiano would take it badly and their relationship would suffer, if it would even break apart?

It had only been once if had become had for him to breathe that Leo had turned his head and looked out of the window instead of into the depths of his soaked pillow, to the outside where the perfectly good weather had almost seemed to taunt him. The turmoil which had been happening inside of him had been so great that he had not wasted a single thought about how the guests of his birthday party had all still been downstairs, how they all had become involuntary witnesses to his father’s and his dispute. The aftershocks of his sobs had made his breath hitch and his body tremble as if he had been freezing and when Leo had closed his eyes, it had been to get them to stop burning rather than the tiredness which had washed over him like waves against a shore.

Then that he had somewhat calmed down and had nothing else to focus on, the pain from the sore side of his face had made itself known with a constant throbbing and said realisation had elicited another breathless sob out of him. His father had _never_ hit him before. They may have had their fair share of arguments in the past but Leo had never been hurt in such a way - physically as well as emotionally. Letting out an audible sniffle as he had wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, he had pulled the cover which Cristiano had draped over him a bit tighter around himself and had sunken a bit further into his pillow. He had not really wanted to fall asleep, had simply hoped to regain his composure but had not fought against it either, resulting in him eventually slipping into a dreamless sleep.

When Leo had woken up again, the sun had already begun to set, colouring the sky a pretty shake of pink and it had taken him a few moments to realise that what had woken him up had not been the sunset, but Cristiano. The Portuguese had been sitting on the edge of the bed right there beside and had been moving a hand through his hair in a gentle and ever-repeating motion. Leo had let out a small sound and had rolled over onto his back, bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes. Cristiano had huffed a quiet laugh but when Leo had cracked his eyes open and had looked up at his boyfriend, he had seen that he must had put on a façade and he had frozen for a second when the older man’s fingers had skimmed over the sore side of his face.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Cristiano had not quite met Leo’s gaze as he had asked him that and he had cupped his hand against Leo’s cheek that had still been hot to the touch. It had been so gentle of a touch that it had almost been enough to make Leo tear up again and he had shaken his head.

“No, it’s... does it look that bad?”

Cristiano had smiled down at the younger man, but the smile had not quite reached his eyes, “It’s just a bit red bebê, I’m sure that it’ll be gone by tomorrow.” He had brushed his thumb over Leo’s cheekbone and had simply looked at his boyfriend for a long moment before he had leaned down to kiss his forehead, “I’m sorry.”

Leo had frowned. “None of this is your fault,” he had said after Cristiano had set back up but the Portuguese had stayed quiet, choosing to look at a spot on the pillow beside Leo’s head rather than directly at him. “Hey,” the younger man had moved to sit up against the headboard and his eyes widened a bit when he had been able to see how his boyfriend had visibly deflated, “do you think that I’m blaming you for what my father did?”

“He’s your father.”

“Cris-”

“I’ve heard him well enough, it’s clear that he hates me, that he hates...”

“I love _you_.” He had resisted the urge to blink hard when Cristiano had finally looked at him again, “ _You’re_ my family, Cris. You and Junior and Dolores.”

The fact that Cristiano had been thinking such things when he himself had just broken his mind over similar thoughts not all too long ago had made his chest clench but before he could have come up with another way to show him that he had meant it, his boyfriend had scooted closer and had drawn him into his arms. “You’re my family too,” the Portuguese had whispered, and while he must have tried the tremble in his voice Leo had not missed it. “I don’t want to see myself without you, I can’t see myself without you bebê and the things your father said to you... I’m sorry that you had to listen to them all.” He had hugged Leo a bit tighter, “I should’ve stepped in, no one’s ever allowed to hurt you.” Leo had melted a bit into the embrace and had nodded, only going rigid when he had remembered that he had practically forgotten about his own party and as if Cristiano had been able to read his mind, he had answered the question which Leo yet had to speak out, “They’re not mad at you, bebê. They helped me to clean up before they left.”

“They’re not mad? I mean-”

“Gerard looked like he was ready to kill, but only because he’s known your father for so long.”

“Thank you.”

Cristiano had slotted a hand into his hair and had kissed his temple, “Don’t mention it bebê,” only letting go of him when he had nodded once more. “Are you hungry? You didn’t really get to finish your lunch and you’ve been up here for a while.”

“Mhm, I could eat,” Leo had said with a lopsided smile and had taken the hand that had been offered to him, allowing himself to be helped off the bed even though he could have done it on his own. He had not let go of Cristiano’s hand as they had made their way downstairs, only so resisiting the urge to actually hide when Dolores had gasped.

She had been sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water in front of her which she had almost knocked over because she had jumped up to hurry over to her son and Leo. Cristiano had merely stepped aside, allowing his mother to hug his boyfriend as well, “Oh docinho, I’m so sorry about your father.” Leo had used his free arm to hug Dolores back and even if there would not have been a lump in his throat, he would not have known what he could have said. “I can’t believe that he reacted like that. Deus sabe que eu nunca teria tratado meus próprios filhos assim and you know that you’ve been like a son for quite some time, docinho.” At his whispered _thank you_ Dolores had clicked her tongue and when she had reminded him that she would not have accepted any backtalk from him anyway, Leo had known that Cristiano and him would not lose each other so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a cheesy ending to this chapter? Maybe, but I felt _so_ bad for Leo that I had to write it like that :-D<3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My country has been in a hard lockdown for almost two weeks now and while it's anything but ideal for me and my mental health, I know how lucky I am that my COVID-19 infection wasn't very severe and that I'm mostly healthy now. I hope you're all safe and healthy out there too! :-)<3
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Monday, 11. July 2016.** _

Leo had kept quiet as he had watched how the man, who had been sitting opposite of him at the table in the dining room, had nodded and had pulled one of the documents out of the stack of papers in front of him, looking at it for a moment before he had handed it over to Leo. “All I need is one more signature...” He had nodded as well, had taken the piece of paper and had picked his pen back up to swiftly set his signature on the designated line at the bottom of the page, giving it back to the other man, “Great, that would be it already!” 

Even though he would have denied it if someone would have asked him about it, Leo had felt a twinge in his chest while he had watched how his new agent had gathered all of the documents together and had taken his time to tack them back into the binder he had taken them out of nearly two hours ago. After all of the turmoil and trouble Jorge had caused by making such a scene during Leo’s birthday party, finding a new agent to replace his father had been easier than Leo had thought it would be. There had been a surprisingly large amount of qualified sports managers residing in Barcelona and despite the way that Leo had reminded himself that he should not be bothered by it, setting his signature under the contract had broken his heart more than what he could have ignored.

His father had stuck to his side ever since they had come to Spain all that time ago and had, except for the past two years, always been his biggest supporter and Leo never would have thought that he would find himself working together with an agent that is not his father. Firing Jorge, however, had been the only logical and right thing because it would not have only been trouble for him, but an insult to Cristiano if he would not have removed his father from his payroll and Leo had not lied when he had said that Cristiano, Junior and Dolores had since become his family instead.

“I’m very exited to get to work with you, Leo.” The sports manager speaking up had been what had caused Leo to snap out of his thoughts and back into the there and then and he had forced himself to muster a smile, standing up as well.

He had continued to smile as he had taken the hand which had been offered to him, “Me too, Fernando.” 

They had engaged in a light, more or less meaningless conversation while Leo had walked them to the front door and he had shaken the agent’s hand once more before he had closed the door. The Argentine had allowed himself to let out a low, exaggerared sigh once the door had been closed and he had been alone in his house again. He had been more than glad that the contract had been put up and signed, as it had allowed him to hope that the press would soon stop to try and unearth the reason as for why Jorge and him had fallen out so badly and Leo had cut all ties with his father and the rest of his family. Other than Leo had feared, Jorge had not gone all out and had outed him and his relationship to the press for a few quick bucks - which had meant one less problem for Cristiano and him but since there had been more than enough on their plates, it had not been that much of a relief.

Sighing once more, he had straightened and had turned to make his way back to the dining room to put away the few dishes his agent and him had used during their meeting and it had only been after he had made the first trip to the kitchen that Leo had taken his phone from where he had set it aside onto a side table earlier. The fact that the Barça group chat had exploded with over two hundred messages in the meantime had not come as a surprise, Leo had muted the notifications the day that he had been added to it, but he had felt a rush of blood going to his head when he had seen that Cristiano had send him a dozen as well. He had tried to ignore how he had been unable to breath during the few mere seconds it had taken him to realise that nothing dramatic had happened to his boyfriend during the hours which he had been unavailable.

His fear had not been exactly unfounded. Cristiano had gotten his diagnosis a day ago: torn collateral ligament in his left knee. His boyfriend had been devastated, understandably so, and Leo had spend a good few hours listening to Cristiano complaining, crying, and voicing out his worry about missing two valuable months of the ongoing season and while Cristiano had not mentioned it directly, Leo had known that one of the Portuguese’s greatest worry had been the Ballon d’Or. Leo himself had never viewed individual awards as that important, but he had been well aware of how Cristiano had always striven for them. It had been one, if not the main reason as for why the enmity between them had been formed by the media and their associates in the first. He had tried his best to reassure his boyfriend that his knee injury would not come to his disadvantage in the election since it had not been his fault and the later the hour had gotten, the more Cristiano’s complains had been less about his injury and more about the fact Leo would only be able to come and visit him in Madrid by the end of the week.

Letting out a huffed laugh once he had realised that Cristiano had only spammed him with messages because he had apparently been bored and missing him and he had plopped down onto one of the chairs at the dining table.

07:40 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [Hey bebê, how are you? ❤️😘]

08:15 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed video call]

08:39 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed video call]

08:41 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [Leo? 👀]

09:20 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed video call]

 _Cristiano:_ [Leeeooo ☹️]

 _Cristiano:_ [Bebê please call me back, I’m bored and I miss you!!! ☹️❤️]

09:28 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [Please 😩💔]

09:40 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [It’s not even 10, you can’t tell me that you’re already asleep 🧐]

09:41 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [Plus you didn’t tell me good night yet 🤨]

09:50 PM

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed video call]

 _Cristiano:_ [Bebê ☹️💔]

Leo had snorted and had shaken his head, if Cristiano had been like that after _a day_ of being grounded from training and workouts in general, he had not been all that eager to find out how it would be in two months’ time. Since he had not known whether Cristiano had been with Junior, he had texted his boyfriend instead of calling him back, [I told you that my agent would come over, Cristiano], being able to watch how the message had gone from send to delivered to read which had told him that his boyfriend had probably waited with his phone in his hand. He had made sure that he had been flashing a wide grin as he had accepted the FaceTime call. “You’re so impatient,” he had laughed as a greeting.

The pout that had formed on Cristiano’s face had been as good as identical to that of his three-year-old son. “I’m being forced to sit around the _entire_ day,” the Portuguese had said with a huff, though his pout had disappeared rather quickly and had been replaced by a smile once he had seen his boyfriend. “I’m glad that Mãe offered to stay with me, I can’t even take care of Junior because of,” Cristiano had switched cameras so that Leo had been able to see his leg where it had been propped up on the coffee table, pillowed by a cushion and stuck in a knee brace, “this fucking thing!” If Leo’s smile had turned a bit more forced, Cristiano had missed it because the older man had simply sighed before he had continued his short rant. “And on top of that I’m missing you a lot, bebê. Life just isn’t very good right now so _yes_ , I’m a bit impatient.”

Leo had hummed noncommittally and had moved a hand over his face, putting it over his mouth to hide the yawn that escaped him, “But you’re not in pain anymore, are you?”

Cristiano had shaken his head, “No, don’t worry about it, bebê. The meds they gave me and the ice packs,” he had held up a folded towel which had obviously contained said item, “are doing their job. I’m bored out of my mind and dying to go back to training but otherwise I’m okay.”

“That’s good.” Leo had smiled, “I miss you too, Cristiano. Like always.”

“Friday can’t come quick enough,” the Portuguese had sighed. “Are you going to stay until Saturday or Sunday?”

“Sunday, I managed to arrange it.”

Cristiano’s smile had turned into a toothy grin that had caused Leo’s heart to somersault. Even though they had been together for a year and a half, the fact that Cristiano had really been his boyfriend had still amazed him because he had been breathtakingly gorgeous. _A Greek God indeed_. “Great, that’s something I can look forward to,” the older man had said, having dropped to a purring tone and Leo had snorted at how quickly Cristiano’s mood had changed. “How was your day, bebê? How’s the new agent? Tell me everything.”

“Training was pretty good until Geri had another argument with Sergio during the break, but he didn’t call me yet so I guess that it wasn’t the worst they ever had.”

His boyfriend had winked at him, “That’s nothing new bebê, you know that breaking up and making up is of their thing,” and had hummed. “I could never do that with you, though. It’s way too stressful and... unnecessary.”

“Well I do hope so because if I get to the point of breaking up with someone once, there’s no way that I’d ever give them a second-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Cristiano had hurried to cut Leo off, “that’s never going to happen so we don’t need to talk about it. Eu nunca quero te perder.”

Leo had snorted, “You started it, Cristiano.” He had felt considerably better when he had elicited a laugh out of the Portuguese, he had been well aware of how important it was to have someone to laugh about while you’re convalescing.

“You might be right there.”

“And the agent is okay too, he seems like a nice and competent guy.”

“I’m glad, bebê. I hope it’s settled now.”

That _it_ had meant the issue with his father, Leo had understood without the topic being explicitly addressed. “I hope so too,” he had answered after a short pause and Cristiano had stayed quiet at the other end of the line when Leo had stood up with a weary sigh, had pushed the chair back against the table and had picked up the last remaining glass.

“Leo...”

“I just,” he had sighed one more, “I never thought that it would come down to this.”

“I know. But you know that I’ll always be here for you, yeah? No matter what happens, bebê. I’ll _always_ be here for you.”

The younger man had smiled at his boyfriend as he had put the glass into the dishwasher. God, how good it had felt to hear those words coming from the man he had loved. “I know, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, bebê.” Cristiano had tilted his head, “That’s how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?”

“It is, yeah.”

“Eu te amo, Leo. I’m so happy that I get to share my life with you, at this point I don’t even know how Junior and I ever managed to live without you in the first place.” The Portuguese had winked at Leo, “And I know that you don’t like to hear it but I’d really love to come back to that housewife offer you made a while ago...”

“Hey, I never made that offer!”

“You _di-id_ ,” Cristiano had chirped and while Leo had not wanted to, he had flushed to a shade of pink. “I’m pretty sure that you did and don’t you dare try to lie to me and say that you wouldn’t absolutely _love_ to do it. Retire early, move to Madrid, spend every day with Junior and me... not to mention that we’d spend every night together, too.” He had wriggled his eyebrows and had winked at Leo, obviously very amused by what he had said.

“Is that you or the pain meds talking right now?” Leo had asked, shaking his head as he had laughed about the mental image of Cristiano forgetting everything he had said and texted.

The older man had cocked an eyebrow. His grin had still been a blinding one and Leo had suddenly ached because he had not been there to see it in person, “Don’t worry bebê, it’s all me saying this. The meds aren’t that strong.”

_**Friday, 15. July 2016.**_

Leo never could have hidden the smile which had grown on his face when he had spotted Junior the very second that he had driven his rental car onto Cristiano’s driveway and he had laughed out loud, waving at the three-year-old who had been standing behind the kitchen window and slapping his hands against the glass and Leo had waved once more after he had spotted Dolores, who must have heaved her grandson onto the kitchen counter just so that the toddler would be able to see Leo as soon as he only could.

“Hey niño,” he had said as a greeting even though there had been no one in the car with him to hear it and he had not stopped smiling when he had pulled the key out of the ignition, hurrying to get out of the car and take his suitcase and rucksack from where he had put them into the backseat of the Mercedes. Leo had been so excited excited to be back in Madrid, and it had been a realisation that had made him snort and shake his head at himself because he certainly never would have thought that visiting Madrid, the enemy’s territory, would at one point feel even more like coming home than arriving back in Barcelona. He had last seen Cristiano, Junior and Dolores three weeks ago but as he had taken the short path up to the front door, it had been as if he had not been with them for months and months on end all the more so since Junior had since started to go to kindergarten a little over a week ago.

“ _Leeeooo!_ ” Cristiano’s toddler son had apparently managed to wriggle through the small gap of the front door when Dolores had opened it to let Leo into the house and Junior had run over to Leo, giggling and making grabby hands at the Argentine, “Hi Leo! You’re back!”

The boy had been wearing a set of Real Madrid pyjamas and he had squealed when Leo had scooped him off the ground and had hugged him close, discarding his suitcase almost carelessly in order to be able to hug Junior with both arms. “Yeah niño, I’m back. I’m sorry that it took me so long to come and see you,” Leo had whispered, pressing a kiss into the boy’s curls. “How are you? How’s kindergarten, niño?”

“You’re back,” Junior had merely repeated instead of answering to the question and he had brought his arms up to wrap them around Leo’s neck, clinging onto him. “Avó, Leo volta!”

Leo had shifted Junior so that the three-year-old had been rested on his hip and he had one arm free to pick his suitcase up. “I know meu amor, it’s about time that he’s back, isn’t it?” Dolores had opened the front door a bit wider to allow the younger man to enter and Leo had only so managed to set his suitcase down before he had found himself embraced by Cristiano’s mother, “Hello docinho, it’s so good to see you.” While Dolores had always treated him more like a son rather than just her son’s partner, Leo had thought to have noticed that she had turned even more motherly towards him since the incident with Jorge, had send him a few random texts throughout the day and had called him almost every evening to ask how he had been doing and he had hugged her back as good as he could have done it. He had closed his eyes for a moment. _Home_. “How was your flight?”

“Good,” Leo had said, smiling when Dolores had pulled back in order to get a look at his face. “How are you?”

She had patted his cheek, “Oh I’m always good. You know me.”

Both Dolores and Leo had turned around when there had been a string of noises coming from the direction of the living room and Leo had felt his smile growing a bit wider as he had watched how Cristiano had cursed under his breath and had tried to pick up the crutch that had slipped out of his hold, failing because bending down while balancing one’s entire weight on one leg had not been all that easy. Leo had made sure that his smile had not been a teasing one as he had walked over to his booyfriend and had swiftly bend down to pick the crutch up, handing it to Cristiano. Instead of thanking him verbally, the Portuguese had pulled him into a kiss and Leo had allowed himself to melt into the touch, putting his arms around Cristiano’s waist while he had kissed him back. Cristiano’s arm had been a comfortable weight where it had been draped over his shoulders and Leo had let out a small sound of content against his boyfriend’s lips when he had been pulled a bit closer.

“Hey bebê,” Cristiano had muttered, kissing a corner of Leo’s mouth, “I missed you.”

“I know,” Leo had answered with a slightly teasing tone lacing his voice. He had been sure that Cristiano had never texted and called him more than during the past week and while he had not been annoyed by it, it definitely had not been easy to answer to all of them and Leo had rolled his eyes at the way that Cristiano had cocked a mock unimpressed eyebrow at him. The younger man had raised onto the tips of his toes to steal another kiss from him to show him that he had not been serious about his teasing in the slightest, even though he had been sure that Cristiano had known it well enough, “I missed you too.”

They had only parted when Junior had voiced his demand for Leo to play with him, “Can you play with me now? Leo, play with me _nooow!_ I want to play with _youuu!_ ”, and Leo had thrown his head back to laugh when Cristiano had glared at his three-year-old son. Instead of being intimidated, however, Junior had only giggled and had leaned back against Leo and had smiled at his father in a picture of perfect childlike innocence, “I wanna play with _Leo_ , Pai.”

“You should sit back down, menino,” Dolores had said from behind them and Leo had changed the hold he had on Junior while Cristiano had let out an honestly disdainful snort and had muttered something under his breath that Leo would not have understood even if it would have been in Spanish instead of Portuguese.

“You know that I’ve been doing nothing but sitting around for a whole fucking week, Mãe! Você, dentre todas as pessoas, sabe o quanto estou enjoado e cansado disso!” Cristiano had snapped as he had sat back down onto the couch and had lifted his injured leg up with a groan so that it had been resting on the pillow on top of the coffee table again, “And I have to do this for two more fucking weeks before I can go to recovery!”

“Fucking!”

The look on Cristiano’s face had turned from furious to horrified, Dolores had glared at her youngest child and Leo had quickly put a hand over Junior’s mouth to muffle the toddler, who had set out to repeat it over and over again, “No niño, don’t say that. It’s a very very bad word.” Junior had twisted around to look up at Leo and his muffled reply had made Leo laugh even though he had not understood what it had been that Cristiano’s son had said. “Yes niño, it’s a _very_ bad word and your Pai should really know better than to say it. Don’t say it again, okay?” The three-year-old had giggled when Leo had pulled his hand back after having kept it over his mouth for a moment longer and even though there had been an unmistakable look of mischief on Junior’s face, he had not repeated the curseword. “That’s a good boy,” Leo had praised him, combing his free hand through the toddler’s hair and tilting his head a bit to kiss his cheek. “Do you want to see what I brought for you, hm?”

“Leo-”

“Presents!” Junior had squealed, “Yes, yes, _yeees!_ ”

Leo had deliberately ignored Cristiano’s attempt to intervene and had merely winked at his boyfriend before he had walked back to where he had set his suitcase and rucksack aside by the front door. The three-year-old had not made a fuss when Leo had put him down to take his rucksack and zip it open and Junior had held onto Leo’s forearm with surprisingly strong hands as he had watched how Leo had rumaged through his back, so as if he had been honestly curious about what the Argentine had been doing and Leo had suddenly felt as if his chest had been ready to burst, so full with affection for the boy. Junior’s fingers had dug into his arm when the boy had spotted the book that Leo had pulled out. “Look at that, niño,” Leo had said with a stage whisper, holding out the book for Cristiano’s son to look at it and gauging the boy’s reaction. His smile had grown bigger when Junior’s eyes had widened. “Do you want to have it?”

“Yeah,” had come the almost abashed answer, the toddler’s eyes had continued to stay glued onto the book as he had reached out to take it with both hands and Leo had brushed the curls back from Junior’s face. He had found the book by coincidence when he had been grocery shopping a couple of days ago and since he had known that Junior had still been obsessed with the horse toys he had bought him for his birthday, he had not thought twice before he had taken the book with the cartoon-styled horses on its cover and had put it into the shopping cart. “Horses,” Junior had said, pointing a chubby finger at the figures.

“Yes niño, it’s all about horses. Do you like it?”

“Uh-huh!”

Cristiano’s son had nodded and the smile he had given Leo as he had hugged the book to his chest had downright forced Leo to take Junior’s face into his hands and pepper his cheeks with kisses, eliciting giggles and squeals. The boy had just been too precious and if someone would have asked him, he would have needed to admit that Junior had since become somewhat of his own son as well. “I love you, niño.” Junior had giggled and while he had wriggled around in Leo’s hold, he had not tried to get away him. “Let’s get back to your Pai and Ávo, yeah?”

The three-year-old had not needed to be told twice, had run off before Leo had even gotten to finish speaking and he had smiled to himself as he had zipped his rucksack up again. He had been able to listen to the conversation which had since started in the nearby living room, “Look Pai, Ávo look what Leo gave me! Horses!”

“Oh that’s a nice book, docinho,” Dolores had said and by the time that Leo had entered the living room, Junior had already been sprawled out on the fluffy rug by the couch, flipping through the book with an undeniable interest.

Leo had walked over to Cristiano after his boyfriend had pouted and had actually reached out for him as if he had been his toddler son, and he had swallowed down the comment which had been resting on the tip of his tongue. He had known how how important football and the gym had always been important to him and so Leo had only smiled as he had plopped down onto the couch beside Cristiano and had curled up against him, something that the Portuguese had commented with an appreciating hum and a kiss into the younger man’s hair. “How was your day, bebê?”

Cristiano had laid an arm around Leo, hugging him impossibly closer and Leo had pillowed his cheek on his boyfriend’s chest, hugging him around the waist, “Pretty good, I’m happy that I’m here now.”

The older man had chuckled, “So am I bebê, I swear that I’ve been counting down the hours until you’d be here. It’s been hell. Não sei por quanto tempo vou conseguir lidar com a distância.” 

That Dolores had taken a photo of them all cuddled up, Leo had been perfectly oblivious to. “I know,” he had answered with a low voice and he had tilted his head upwards to look up at Cristiano, giving a small smile. “If it makes you feel better, I really missed you too.” Leo’s eyes had flutteres close when he had been kissed again and he had drawn his knees close so that his feet had been on the couch and he had curled up even further against his boyfriend but when Cristiano had tried to deepen the kiss, he had pulled back, his face flushed to a shade of pink. He had not really been comfortable with both Dolores and Junior being in the same room if Cristiano had happened to want more, not to mention that his boyfriend’s injury had been prominent on his mind.

Cristiano, having spotted the blush on Leo’s face, had smirked and had winked down at the younger man. He had clicked his tongue. “Now bebê, you know that I wouldn’t do anything like _that_...”, he had whispered with a purr and had laughed when Leo had attempted to wriggle out of his hold, which had been in vain. The Portuguese had pressed another kiss against Leo’s lips, dragging it out until the younger man had let out a small sound of protest, “Eu te amo.”

“I love you too.”

“Would you like a coffee, docinho? Unless it’s too late for you, of course, then I can make you tea.”

Leo had smiled, “I’d love a coffee.”

“Latte Macchiato?”

“Please.”

Dolores had smiled back at her son’s boyfriend before she had left the living room for the kitchen.

“’Eo?”

Cristiano had removed his arm from around Leo to allow him to sit up when Junior’s small voice had reached them from somewhere below the couch and Leo had sat up, leaning over a bit to peak over the edge of the couch and smile at Junior, who had been looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes, “Yeah, niño?”

The three-year-old had clambered onto his feet without letting go of his newest book, the pacifier bobbing between his lips, “Can you read to me? Pwease?”

The fact that his speech had been a bit impaired due to the pacifier had made him appear all the more cuter and Leo had hummed, “I’d love to read to you. Come here, niño.” He had suppressed a groan as he had taken Junior underneath the armpits to lift him onto the couch without hurting him by accidentaly and had sat him down between Cristiano and himself.

“O que você tem aí?”

“Cavalos,” had been all that the three-year-old had said in response to his father’s question as he had climbed into Leo’s lap and had given the book to the Argentine. “Read now?” With the toddler leaned against his chest and in an apparently comfortable position, Leo had kissed the top of his head and had flipped the book open, pressing yet another kiss into Junior’s curls before he had begun to read the first chapter.

It had been a book meant for children below the age of five and somewhat of an introduction to the topic of horses in general. Dolores had not interrupted him when she had put the coffee glass down on the coffee table in front of him and Leo had quietly thanked her with a smile and Junior had absentmindedly twisted his pacifier around while he had listened to Leo reading out aloud and had eagerly looked to where Leo had pointed from time in an explaination of what he had read. “Look niño, there are _so many_ different breeds!” He had laughed at the small sound of agreement Junior had let out and if his attention would not have been fully fixed on the toddler in his lap, he definitely could not have missed how both Cristiano and Dolores had been watching him with enamoured and fascinated looks on their faces. Leo had faked a gasp, “Those are the horses we saw at Uncle Sergio’s farm! Do you remember, niño?”

Junior had gasped as well and had bounced up and down a few time, pointing a finger at the same photo that Leo had pointed at a few seconds earlier, “Uh-huh!”

Leo had known that Junior probably had not remembered it all that clearly, but he had played along and had only taken a short break from reading to sip at his Latte Macchiato before it could have been forgotten and cold. He had continued to read to the toddler for a while, though he had not gotten to finishe the first chapter before he had noticed that Cristiano’s son had grown quite heavy against him and Leo had quitely closed the book once he had heard how Junior’s breathing had evened out. It had barely been past eight in the evening and the three-year-old had not seemed that tired, but Leo had known that sticking to a routine had been rather important for kids as young as Junior. “I’ll bring him to bed,” he had whispered, and he had turned the sleeping toddler around so that he would be able to carry him safely before he had looked at Cristiano, who had smiled and nodded.

“Do that, bebê,” Cristiano had whispered back and his smile had widened noticeably as he had watched how his boyfriend had stood up with his sleeping son securely held in his arms.

Leo had made sure that he would not accidentally jolt the boy as he had slowly gotten up the stars, running a gentle hand over Junior’s back when he had mewled softly in his sleep, “Shhh niño, shhh.” Junior had, thankfully, settled back down with a drawled-out sigh instead of waking up and Leo had let out a quiet sigh of relief as well, settling for moving on tip-toes into the toddler’s room.

Cristiano’s son had not stirred when Leo had put him down into his cot after having kissed his forehead. Leo had continued to move as quietly as he had done it before, had tucked Junior in and had put his teddy within his reach so that Junior could easily find it if he should wake up and search for it, and had turned the CD player on; he still had to ask Cristiano how he had actually found out that Mozart had helped to keep Junior relaxed. Even after all of that had been done Leo still had not left the nursery, had instead crouched down by Junior’s cot and had made sure that the toddler had really been properly tucked in, spending a good few minutes just watching the sleeping child before he had gathered enough mental strength to tear himself away from the sight.

“We’re in the kitchen, docinho,” he had heard just as he had walked past the kitchen door to where he had thought Dolores and Cristiano had still been and Dolores calling out had surprised him so much that he had flinched a bit, thankfully out of anyone’s sight.

While Cristiano’s mother had been standing at the stove and stirring at a pot, Cristiano had been sitting at the kitchen table and Leo had felt himself blushing at the way that his boyfriend had been looking at him with open fondness. “He’s asleep,” he had said before Cristiano could have asked him about his son and he had sat down next to Cristiano, allowing the Portuguese to take his right hand and slot their fingers together.

“I hope you’re hungry, docinho,” Dolores had asked, turning around to smile at the younger man. “I cooked earlier and there’s a lot left over.”

“I’m definitely a bit hungry, I didn’t eat before I boarded.” Dolores had made an approving sound and had turned back towards the stove, humming a tune to herself and Leo had watched her until Cristiano had squeezed his hand and had averted his attention towards him again. Cristiano had not said anything, though, had merely continued to look at him with eyes as warm as soft as Leo had only ever seen them in private and he had kissed the back of Cristiano’s hand as if he had felt the need to reassure him of something.

Dolores had stayed with them until dinner had been over with and all of the dishes had been washed, and she had hugged both her son and her son’s boyfriend before had left. “Nothing against my mother, you know how much I love her,” Cristiano had whispered once Leo and him had been by themselves, using his free arm to wrap it around the younger man to pull him close, “but I’ve been dying to be alone with you, bebê. Espero que entenda.”

Leo had snorted but had only pulled away after he had kissed Cristiano back, “We can’t, Cristiano.”

“Hm? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cristiano had tried to sound perfectly innocent with an equally perfect innocent smile, but Leo had seen right through it.

“Your knee, Cristiano. I’m sorry but I don’t want to be the one responsible if it gets worse because we had sex,” Leo had replied and while he had been strict about what he had said, his voice had lacked the edge it would have needed to be convincing. “We’ll have to wait until it’s no longer so as if is right now, okay?” He had taken a step back to put a bit of distance between them and Cristiano had whined, pouting in a way that had made any paternity test for Junior unnecessary because it had been a perfect mirror image of how the three-year-old would try to convince Leo - with the only difference that Leo probably would have given in to Junior’s pleading by then, since he had been horrible at saying no to the three-year-old. To his thirty-one-year-old father, on the other hand... His smile had almost turned into a grin as he had closed the distance between him and Cristiano only a moment later, had cupped his boyfriend’s face and had pulled him down into a kiss. “I’m sorry,” he had whispered between two kisses, “but I hope you understand.”

Cristiano had caught Leo’s bottom lip between his teeth for a second, thus forcing Leo to stay close to him, “The worst part is that I can’t even be mad at you because you’re right, bebê.”

“I know.”

“Hey, don’t get cheeky now.” At the way that Cristiano had cocked an eyebrow at him, Leo had merely laughed. He might have been intimidated by him at one point, but that had been before their encounter in the bathroom and Zurich and long before Dolores had given him the photos of five-year-old Cristiano dressed up as a princess with a pink dress and matching flower hair clips. “How about we get ready for bed and then watch a movie? I know that you don’t like to play FIFA and there’s not much else to do...”

“Sure, that’s good.”

Leo had resisited the urge to hurry up the flight of stairs like he usually would have done it and had instead insisted that Cristiano would go first, something he, in hindsight, should not have done because once they had reached the top of the stairs, he had whirled around and had glared at him as if Leo had just insulted his family name, “Damnit Leo, there’s no need for you to treat me like a fucking invalid too! Isn’t it enough that my mother already doesn’t listen to what I tell her?! Do you have to be so difficult too? Pelo amor de Deus, chega!”

It would have been no lie if Leo would have claimed that his heart had dropped into the pit of his stomach. He had taken a step back without really noticed it, staring at Cristiano with wide eyes, and Leo had brushed off Cristiano’s attempt to catch him by the arm as he had downright hasted past him to disappear in the en suite, making sure that he had not slammed the door so that he would not wake Junior up. Leo had moved a hand over his face, trying to ignore the way that his hand had trembled and he had felt like he had been seconds away from throwing up because he had know that Cristiano most definitely had not meant it like that. He had been injured and in a bad mood due to him being forced to spend his days on the couch instead of the gym and the pitch - Leo had known how much it could ruin one’s mood. He also had, however, never really been able to endure arguments and the strain that had always come with them and his tolerance had shrinked even further ever since he had fallen out with his father.

 _He didn’t mean it like that_ , Leo had told himself, taking his tooth brush out of its holder next to Cristiano’s. Even though that they had still carried the title of arch-rivals in the public eye, they never had real argument in all the times that they had been together. He had brushed teeth, taking his time to get through his evening routine, maybe even dragging it out a bit just so that he would delay having to face his boyfriend again, and Leo had steadied himself with a deep breath when he had unlocked the bathroom door.

The lights in the bedroom had already been dimmed and Cristiano had been sitting on his side of the bed, working on getting Netflix running on the TV. Neither of them had said nor had really acknowledged each other’s presence while Leo had walked over to where he had put his suitcase earlier and he had listened to how Cristiano had stood up from the bed with a groan and had limped into the en suite. Leo had let out a quiet sigh and had pulled his shirt over his head, quickly changing into his sleeping clothes which had, as always, been one Cristiano’s shirt that he had seemed to drown in and his boxer shorts, and he had sighed yet when he had climbed onto the bed, unsure how to behave.

Cristiano definitely had not taken as long as he had in the bathroom and the Portuguese had lost his shirt as well as his sweatpants, having exchanged the latter with a pair of loose pyjama pants and Leo had made sure that he had looked anywhere but at his boyfriend, instead reaching for the remote which Cristiano had set aside earlier to swap through the movie selection Netflix had to offer. Cristiano had stood on the spot for a moment longer, just looking at Leo, before he had limped over to the bed. He had shuffled until he had been in the middle of the bed rather than just on his side and had sat up against the headboard, so close to Leo that their arms had almost touched. “Leo?” The older man’s voice had been low, only barely above a whisper and even if Leo would have wanted to, he never could have held a grunge for all that long. He had turned his head to look at Cristiano, but had not said anything. “Could you... go and get me another ice pack, bebê? I don’t think that I can do it myself.”

Leo had smiled, it had been as good of an apology as he could have gotten and he had nodded, putting the remote down and climbing off the bed. He had come to stand at the top of the stairs, where he had paused for a couple of seconds and had closed his eyes to bask in the feeling of the wave of relief washing over him, before he had hurried downstairs; he had wrapped the ice pack in a tea towel on the way back to the bedroom. “Here.”

“Thank you, bebê.” Instead of taking the ice pack, Cristiano had caught Leo by the wrist and the Argentine had allowed himself to be pulled down into the kiss he had already seen coming, “Leo I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it I just...”

“I know.”

Instead of climbing over his injured boyfriend Leo had rounded the bed to get to his side and when he had lay down, it had been curled up against Cristiano, who had leaned back against the headboard after he had put the ice pack onto his knee and had laid an arm around the younger man, “What do you want to watch, bebê?”

“I don’t know, you can choose something.”

Cristiano had looked for a moment longer, “Is Fast and Furious okay?” 

Leo had nodded; he had started to absentmindedly trace the outlines of Cristiano’s abs once the movie had started, not because he had wanted to initiate anything that his boyfriend had not been fit enough for, but because he had simply wanted to touch him after weeks of not having been able to do so. The Portugese had hummed and had pressed a kiss into Leo’s hair, combing a hand through it in return. Even though Leo had not been into the movie as much as Cristiano, he had enjoyed it, or rather the fact that it had given them an opportunity to cuddle, all the same. How far into the movie they had been Leo had not known, but he had still been stroking Cristiano’s immaculate skin when he had looked away from the TV and at his boyfriend - or rather just at his boyfriend’s lower half.

His breath had hitched, not having expected the tent which had since formed in Cristiano’s pyjama pants. Leo had to admit that the nature of his touches could have been seen as teasing and while the older man had not let any of his arousal be noticeable, he had elicited the first gasp out of him when he had cupped his erection through the thin fabric. They might not have been able to have sex like they usually would have done it by then, but Leo never could have ignored it either.

“Leo-”

Cristiano had been cut off by a choked moan when the younger man had slipped his hand underneath the waistband of the loose pyjama pants and Leo had twisted around to look up at his boyfriend as he had closed his fingers around the base of the twitching cock, “Aw, the movie isn’t interesting? I thought you like it.” The grin had faded from Leo’s face even quicker than it had grown when Cristiano’s hand, which had sneaked between them, had caught him by the throat. It had by no means been a strong hold, had only been meant to keep him in place and his head tilted but the feeling of his boyfriend’s hand clasping his neck had caused heat to shoot into both Leo’s head and his groin. God, he had already been wasted in the best possible way.

Cristiano had spend a few seconds just looking down at him before something had snapped in the Portuguese’s mind and he had used the hold he had to pull Leo up and capture his lips with a growl, making the younger man whimper in response. Leo had squeezed the older man’s cock again as he had tried to kiss him back with the same vigour. “Go on,” Cristiano had murmured into the kiss, “please bebê, go on,” and when Cristiano had spread his legs apart wide enough for him to fit in between them, the last remaining bit Leo’s reluctance had flown right off. He had moved on all fours to position himself between Cristiano’s spread legs as soon as Cristiano had let go of his throat and Leo had freed his boyfriend’s cock from where it had been straining against the fabric, only letting go of it to tug the pyjama pants down a bit more so that it would not become a hindrance. Cristiano’s hands had found their way into Leo’s hair, “Fuck, bebê...”

Leo had shifted onto his knees and elbows, arching his back and casting his gaze up at Cristiano’s face. He had kept it there as he had licked a long stripe along the underside of Cristiano’s cock, using the broad of his tongue, before he had closed his lips around tip and had sucked, stroking the rest of the length. “Oh meu Deus,” the Portuguese had moaned, louder that time and Leo had felt a surge of confidence and pride shoot through him because it had been him who had made Cristiano react like that. “Eu te amo, fuck you’re so amazing, bebê.”

Slacking his jaw, Leo had moved his hand to the base and had swallowed the length down to the tilt in one go and Cristiano’s fingers had tightened their hold when he had kept it there until his lungs had protested and he had needed to pull off with a gasp. Cristiano’s hands had used their hold to force his head back down, gently but with clear intent and Leo had rolled his eyes in an exaggerated way before he had taken his boyfriend’s cock back between his lips; he had only so stopped himself from gagging when Cristiano had snapped his hips up and had caused the tip of his cock to hit the back of the younger man’s throat.

While Leo had spluttered, Cristiano had smirked down at him. “Careful, bebê,” the Portuguese had said as a mock warning and Leo could not have suppressed the whimper if he would have tried to, his own cock twitching in his boxer shorts at the feeling of Cristiano gaining the upper hand. “I’m a gentleman, I _really_ don’t want you to choke on my dick.” Leo had made sure that he had hummed when he had taken Cristiano’s cock down his throat again; he had kept his left hand at the base and had used his other to fondle his balls, knowing what it had taken to get his boyfriend to the peak of his arousal sooner rather than later. Cristiano had responded to his efforts by letting out a string of moans and almost unintelligible praises, which had both spurred the younger man on to bob his head more eagerly. 

Even though his own cock had twitched in a demand to be paid attention to, Leo had been fully focused on pleasing his boyfriend and thus he probably would not have used his hands on himself even if they would have been free. It had always been amazing to see Cristiano falling apart right there in front of him, to see how his chest and face had been flushed, how his legs had twitched and how he had tried to regulate his breathing and maintain his composure even though he must have known that Leo had been able to tell how on edge he had been. He had grinned when he had pulled off from one second to another and Cristiano had whimpered at the loss of Leo’s mouth on him. Cristiano’s cock had twitched and his hands had trembled where they had still been holding onto handfuls of Leo’s hair, his breath coming in huffs and with his curls falling onto his forehead, he had looked so good that Leo had been ready to come just from looking at him in that moment.

Leo had given him a few lazy strokes, kissing the glistering head and teasing the slit with the tip of his tongue as he had done so. The way Cristiano’s hips had been twitching almost constantly had told him that his boyfriends had been inches away from falling over the edge of his orgasm. “Bebê,” Cristiano had choked out, “Leo please, bebê estou perto-” He had not gotten to finish his sentence before his cock had disappeared past Leo’s lips, which had been swollen and glossy with spit and the younger man had forced his gag reflex down by breathing in through his nose when Cristiano had come down his throat. Leo had swallowed until Cristiano’s cock had softened on his tongue, only pulling off once he had been sure that he would not make a mess because changing the bedsheet had not been something he had wanted to do after this. 

He had only barely been granted a chance to catch his breath before Cristiano’s hands had wandered from his hair to his face, had cupped it and had pulled him up and into a kiss, the suddenness of it resulting in him ending up pretty much sprawled out on top of his boyfriend. That Cristiano had most definitely tasted himself in the kiss apparently had not mattered to the Portuguese and he had continued to kiss Leo while he had moved his fingers through the younger man’s hair as if he had wanted to ease out any pain he had left behind by having held onto it. Their tongues had languidly danced around each other without any real hurry, making it inevitable for Leo to melt where he had then been lying. Cristiano had kept his hands in Leo’s hair for a short while and he had caught Leo’s bottom lip between his teeth as he had slowly moved his hands down the curve of Leo’s back to splay them over his ass, squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to make Leo gasp. 

“Jesus, bebê, you were so fucking hot.” The Portuguese had let out a laugh when Leo had dropped his head to hide his face in the crook of Cristiano’s neck, his cheeks had been burning due to arousal as much as from embarrassment then that he had been coming down. Cristiano had placed a few kissed into Leo’s hair in quick succession, keeping one hand on his ass and slipping the other under the hem of Leo’s oversized shirt to stroke the naked skin of his back in an ever-repeating motion, the movie he had put on earlier still running in the background. “I’m so happy that you’re here, bebê. Without you... I don’t know why but it’s just getting harder and harder instead of easier and I also don’t know how much worse it can get at this point, I’d give everything to have you here every day, Leo. E Junior precisa de você tanto quanto eu.” Cristiano had let out a laugh that had sounded more like a choked sob and Leo had been able to feel how the hand on his back had trembled a bit, “It’s just not fair that it has to be like this. I _need_ you here.”

It had been then that Leo had shifted onto his elbows to get a look at his boyfriend’s face and he had smiled, touched by the tears that had been shining in Cristiano’s eyes. He had known that they had been due to the aftermath of his orgasm and Leo had kissed one, then the other corner of Cristiano’s mouth, “And I would give everything to make it possible, Cristiano.”

Cristiano’s arms had wrapped around him from one second to another, pulling him back down and flush against against the Portuguese again, “I know that, bebê. I know. Eu ficarei bem enquanto você estiver comigo. Vai ficar tudo bem, um dia poderemos ficar juntos o tempo todo.”

༻✦༺

Leo had blinked hard, a bit confused because if he would have been asked, he would have said that he could not have falled asleep longer than ten minutes ago because Cristiano and him had ended up watching a comedy before they had gone to sleep past midnight and Leo had frozen in the motion of rubbing his eyes when he had noticed that there had been a tanned arm draped over his waist. It had been a first one - in the eighteen months that they had been couple, it had never happened that it had been Leo who had woken up first. The realisation had caused Leo’s face to be split by a tired, but wide smile. Making sure that he moved as slowly and quietly as he could have done it in order to not wake up his sleeping boyfriend, Leo had gently removed Cristiano’s arm from around him before he had rolled over onto his back and had sat up. He had not been able to resist the temptation of combing back the loose curls that had hung onto Cristiano’s forehead, watching how his face had stayed perfectly relaxed while he had done so. God, he had been so gorgeous and Leo had been so in love with him.

The younger man had allowed himself to spend a good few seconds just admiring Cristiano before he had climbed off the bed, had slipped on a pair of pyjama pants, because he had not wanted to strut around in his underwear, and had tip-toed across the bedroom. He had known that Cristiano had rarely ever granted himself a chance to sleep in even if Junior had been watched by Dolores and he thus could have done it just as Leo had known that Cristiano could benefit from a few extra hours of sleep.

Quietly closing the door behind him, Leo had yawned, had ruffled both of his hands through his tousled hair and had set out to go downstairs, having since decided that he would prepare a bit of a bigger breakfast as a little surprise for Cristiano with the hope that it would ensure that Cristiano’s mood would not change as much and as rapid as it had done the day before. There had been a change to his plan as soon as he had reached the bottom of the stairs, however, where he had frozen on the spot because he had thought to have perceived a noise coming from upstairs and he had stood there, waiting for the sound to reach him again. Leo had huffed a laugh when he had indeed heard it again and had turned on his heels to hurry back to the upper floor.

“Hey ñino,” he had whispered, slowly opening the door, which had stood ajar, to enter the nursery. “You’re already awake? Good morning!” The way that Leo’s voice had switched from a whisper to a stage whisper had elicited a giggle from the three-year-old who had already been wide awake, sitting in his cot and playing with his Barça teddy, “Did you sleep well?”

“Goo’ mo’ning,” Junior had said around his pacifier, giggling yet again and holding onto two bars of the cot to clamber onto his feet. “Hi Leo! Hi Leo! You’re back!”

Leo had hummed, swiftly bending down to pick Cristiano’s son up and settle him on his. He had kissed Junior’s temple and had combed his free hand through his curls which had unmistakably inherited from his father, “Did you sleep well?”

That time, Junior had answered to his question. “Yeah,” the boy had muttered, nodding and leaning against Leo, who had hugged him a bit tighter and had placed a kiss into the wild mess of his curls.

“Do you want to help me with breakfast, niño? We need to be quiet though because your Pai is still sleeping, okay?” Leo had turned to leave the room, but had turned right back around when Junior had whined and he had not needed to ask the toddler to know that he had wanted his teddy and indeed, the toddler had settled as soon as Leo had taken his teddy out of the cot and had handed it to him, “You’ll help me yeah?”

“Yeah!” Junior had said, a bit louder that time and Leo had been glad that he yet had to leave the nursery because Cristiano’s instincts would not have allowed him to sleep on if he would have made out his son’s voice.

Once they had been downstairs, however, Leo had smooched one of the toddler’s cheeks for the sole reason of making him squeal with laughter and Junior had wriggled in Leo’s arms, trying to get away while holding onto Leo’s shirt with the hand that had not been holding his teddy by the leg, “Would you like waffles or pancakes, niño?”

“Uh...” Leo had laughed at the way that the boy’s face had scrunched up before he had grinned, “Waffles!”

“Okay then, I’ll make waffles for you.”

“Yaaay!” Cristiano’s son had been kicking his legs when Leo had put him into his high chair and had made sure that he had been properly strapped in, “Leo I want waffles!”

“I promise that I’ll make you waffles, niño. It’ll just take a bit, okay?”

Slapping his hands onto the plastic table of the high chair, Junior had nodded hard enough to send his curls bouncing, “Waaaffleees!” Leo had snorted, had kissed Junior atop the head and had walked over to check what the fridge had contained, putting out the things he would or could use. “Ew!” the three-year-old had exclaimed from behind him and the disbelieving laugh Leo had let out in return had resounded through the kitchen.

He has set the bundle of kale aside onto the counter, “Don’t let your Pai hear that, niño,” turning around to wink at Junior, who had been giggling and shaking his head in a way that would have made him feel dizzy if he would have tried to do it. “It’s his _favourite_ but you’re right, we don’t have to eat it, do we?”

“No eat it, Leo! No eat it, no!”

“Yeah niño, we won’t. We’ll leave it all for your Pai to enjoy.”

“Uh-huh!”

Leo had listened to Junior’s babbling as he had cut the kale, the pineapple and the bananas and had put them into the blender before he had added a bit of honey, a dollop of peanut butter and nonfat Greek yoghurt each and had topped the whole thing off with Cristiano’s favourite vanilla almond milk. While the blender had run, he had begun to cut a few different berries to use as a topping for the waffles and to placate Junior, he put a few of them into a plastic bowl for the three-year-old to snack on in the meantime.

With the smoothies and fruits ready and waiting in the fridge, Leo had set on a put to cook a couple of eggs and had whipped the waffle batter together. If it only would have been Junior and him, the waffles would have been enough but Leo had known that, then that he had not been able to work out, Cristiano would watch his nutrition even more. He had been in his element, working in the kitchen without any serious distraction. While the first batch of waffles had been baking, filling out the room with a smell that had made his stomach grumble, Leo had peeled the eggs, had cut a few slices off the whole grain bread he had found in the bread box and had put everything onto plates that he would only need to carry to the dining table, “See cariño, that didn’t take so long, did it?”

Junior, who had just put a handful of halved strawberries into his mouth, had giggled around them and had allowed Leo to lift him out of the high chair and put him down onto his own feet, “Waffles!”

Leo had suppressed a sigh when Junior had wrapped his arms around one of his legs, but had smiled down at the toddler nonetheless, “In a few, niño.” With Cristiano’s son never leaving his side, Leo had set the dining table, moving back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room and he had let out an approving sound as he had a look at the finished project. “Should I go and wake your Pai, hm?”, Leo had asked, picking Junior up with a groan to strap him back into the high chair. “Or should we keep all of this for ourselves?” He had tickled the three-year-old’s side, making him giggle, “Yeah, I think we shouldn’t wake him up, niño.”

“Oh is that so, Leo? You’re out here trying to manipulate my son while I’m _sleeping?_ ” How Leo had not heard Cristiano coming down the stairs with his crutches had been somewhat of a miracle and he had turned around just in time to see his boyfriend limping into the dining room but instead of the playfully cocked eyebrow he had expected, Cristiano had merely been smiling. “Thank you for making breakfast.” He had limped over to where his son’s high chair, “Bom dia meu amor, você dormiu bem?”, and had dropped a kiss atop his head before he had done the same to Leo, who had since sat down beside Junior and had begun to prepare a plate for the toddler.

Leo had let out a small sound of surprise when Cristiano had laid an arm around him from behind and had hugged him close, nuzzling his hair even though the moment had been less than ideal for it, as Junior had already been making grabby hands at the waffle he had wanted to cut for him, but Leo never could have told his boyfriend to stop, “Junior helped to make all of this, of course.”

Cristiano had huffed a laugh, “I’m sure that he did.”

“I help!”

“Yeah, you were a _great_ help.” Leo had quickly finished cutting the waffles, topping it off with berries and dulce de leche before setting the plate down onto the plastic table of Junior’s high chair, “There you go niño.” Leaning back into his chair, Leo had nipped at his orange juice and had watched how the three-year-old had practically devoured his breakfast as if he had not been fed in a couple of days, resulting in him smearing dulce de leche all over his face and pyjama top.

“Pare com isso, Junior. Você está se bagunçando, olhe para você!” Junior had blatantly ignored Cristiano’s admonishing words and had giggled instead, directing a cheeky grin at his father and whatever it had been that Leo had wanted to say had gotten stuck in his throat when he had turned his head to look at Cristiano and had spotted the set of keys his boyfriend had been holding up, “Move in with me.” Even though he had been aware that he had been staring at Cristiano as if he had just grown a second head, Leo had been unable to do anything else for a good few seconds. His pause had been long enough for Cristiano’s face to lose a bit of colour, “I mean if it’s too soon for you...”

“No,” Leo had breathed, reaching over the table to take the keys that Cristiano had still been offering to him. “No, it’s not too soon but I... won’t be able to come and see you more often.” He had added the last part with such a low voice that it would not have been a surprise if the other would not have understood him, “I wish I could.” 

“That’s not what this is about, bebê. I just don’t want you to visit us anymore, I want you come home.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it took me such a long time to get this chapter done. Just when I thought that things had finally taken a turn for the better, life came back around and everything went downhill again, including my inspiration for this story. I won't ever abandon Perfect Paradise, as it's one of my favourite stories I've ever written, and coming back to it after an extended break felt a bit like coming home. I really missed it.
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

_**Friday, 05. August 2016.** _

Leo had not actually told any of his friends, not even Gerard and Neymar, that Cristiano had asked him to move in, even though he had known that especially his two best friends, who both had their fair share of experience when it had come to keeping a long-distance relationship upright, would have been more than happy to celebrate that next step of Cristiano’s and his relationship together with him.

It had been just that latter part as for why he had not told them about the new set of keys on his keychain when he had come back from Madrid, because it had been him who had not wanted to make a big deal out of it. So Cristiano had given him the spare set of keys for his house. If the gesture had been meaningful enough to make Leo smile and his heart feel like it had been ready to jump out of his chest whenever he would remember the picture of his boyfriend holding up said keys and asking him to move in with him because he wanted him to come home? Yes, of course.

Even two weeks after he had been given the keys Leo had sometimes caught himself smiling at the memory of it, of the almost abashed smile which had been on Cristiano’s face when it had taken him a long moment to process what had happened before he had reached over the table and had taken the keys from him. It had been a touching gesture but just like Leo had told the older man while they had still been sitting at the kitchen table, it had not really changed anything about how their relationship had been condemned to go on for the time being and the indefinite future.

Despite the fact that he had been yearning to do so, he had not been in a position which had allowed him to fly to Madrid and visit Cristiano and three-year-old Junior more often than he had managed to do it before the set of Cristiano’s spare keys had been added to his keychain and the Portuguese had cleared out a few compartments of his wardrobe for him, and even though his boyfriend had told him that them seeing each other more often had not been the reason why he had asked him, knowing that there had been those empty compartments of Cristiano’s wardrobe waiting to be stacked with his clothes had made Leo want to cry just as often as it had made him smile.

After more than a year and a half of being in a long-distance relationship, the ache of not having been granted the chance to be with his boyfriend every day had been different to the one that had threatened to break his heart at the very beginning of their relationship, when they had merely gotten to see each other per FaceTime for two entire months out of the five that they had been together at that point. It had no longer been an ache that had hit Leo with all of its force when he would lie in bed alone and would remember how it had been to have Cristiano holding him from behind, tucking Leo’s head underneath his chin and whispering love confessions in Portuguese to him in the darkness while stroking his side. Nineteen months after they had first kissed in that bathroom in Zurich, Leo had no longer felt as if he had been overpowered by his yearning to be close to the man he had loved and for the life which had been waiting for him more than 600km away from Barcelona. 

The ache had accompanied his daily life, but he had gotten used to it eventually.

It had not been as if he really had another choice unless he had wanted to see himself break down under the strain. When he would wake up to an empty bed in the morning, the dull ache would settle in the moment he would open his eyes and would stay with him throughout the day. It would be there when he would make himself breakfast and there had not been a small pair of hands tugging at his pyjama pants, asking for waffles or pancakes or to be picked up, or when he had not found himself bound into an only somewhat serious discussion about how he should stop to demonise kale. It would be there when Leo would come home from a long day at the training grounds to an empty house, when he would not be greeted by the pitter-patter of small feet and childlike giggling but by deafening silence instead, which had acted as a steady reminder of how lonely he would always be in Barcelona at the end of the day.

It would, of course, also be there when he would lie in alone in bed and FaceTime with Cristiano, though he had no longer cried all that often over it because somehow, Cristiano would always find out whenever he would cry and Leo had not wanted to worry his boyfriend, as he had known that Cristiano had not suffered any less than him.

Leo had wished that him getting the keys to Cristiano’s house really would have meant that they would be able to spend more time with each other and as a family, but as it had not, he had sometimes caught himself ignoring the newest set of keys on his keychain or Cristiano’s little reminders about how he would need to pack a bigger suitcase the next time that he would fly across the country to visit them. Despire the fact that he had not allowed himself to think about it too much, Leo had indeed chosen one of his bigger suitcases and had packed more clothes than he could possibly use in the time that he would be spending with Cristiano and Junior. The way that the Portuguese’s face had almost been split by a smile when he had answered with a yes to Cristiano’s question of whether he would bring some extra clothes had made Leo wonder if he had been the only one out of the two of them who had not allowed himself to dream a little bit when it had come to their future together.

“You know,” Cristiano had said when they had been on FaceTime the evening before Leo had been due to fly out to Madrid again, “I think that I’ll have to take you shopping, bebê. I doubt that you have enough clothes to fill two wardrobes. And don’t think that you can bring any of your jeans short home, les são absolutamente horríveis e você merece coisa melhor do que shorts jeans, Leo!”

The younger man has shaken his head and had laughed, even if what Cristiano had said had, in his eyes, been just another reminder of how they still had not been in the position to be out and open about their relationship. That they had gone from rivals to being friends, the broad public had been aware of ever since a paparazzo had caught them at Leo’s house after the Clásico in April and while it might have explained why Leo had been there for birthday parties and less important occasions, it never could have acted as a pretense as for why Cristiano and him would amble from boutique to boutique, all the more so since Leo had known that Cristiano never would have done so without holding his hand. “Maybe someday,” had thus been all that he had answered, hoping that his voice had not given away how much the possibility of them never being able to do that had actually burdened him in that very moment.

He had not really been surprised when Cristiano had noticed it despite his best attempt to play it off. “Leo, bebê.” Something about his boyfriend’s tone of voice had made it hard for Leo to look at Cristiano’s face on the screen of his phone and he had busied himself by taking out one of the shirts he had already out into the suitcase earlier to fold it anew. “Hey, I told you that it won’t be like this forever...” The younger man had swallowed hard around the lump in his throat which had formed from one second to another. “Or do you not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you,” he had replied, maybe a tad too quickly as it had made it impossible for him to hide the way that his voice had cracked. “Of course I do, Cristiano. That’s not what it is.” His answer had been followed by a few seconds of silence from the other end of the line and Leo had looked down at the suitcase on the floor of his bedroom rather than his phone, which he had propped up on against the lamp on his nightstand. He had cleared his throat, pretending to fix something about the clothes he had packed earlier.

“I know that it’s hard, meu amor.” Cristiano’s voice had taken on a softer tone. If someone would have listened to their conversations, they could have thought that the Portuguese had been talking to his three-year-old son rather than his twenty-nine-year-old boyfriend and Leo had closed his eyes, feeling his shoulders slump in resignation. “Bebê I miss you so much when you’re not here with Junior and me, you know that, right?” Leo had nodded, trying to blink away the tears that had been building up in his eyes even though he had tried his hardest to suppress them. He had not wanted to be dramatic; he had seen Cristiano just two weeks ago and would get to see him the next day, and no matter how often he would be told that he had not been pathetic for missing his boyfriend like he had done it, Leo would always curse himself in his mind for being so quick to tear up from time to time. “We’re not complete without you,” the Portuguese had talked on when there had been no verbal answer coming from Leo. “There’s always someone missing, bebê, and that’s why I gave you the keys. I never wanted to make you feel so bad about it-”

“You didn’t,” Leo had interjected, forcing himself to show a smile to his boyfriend despite the way that his eyes had been burning. “I’m sorry Cristiano, I’m just...” He had dropped his gaze to his hands and had only looked up again when he had made out the sound of the duvet rustling, telling him that Cristiano had sat up against the headboard.

The smile on his boyfriend’s face had been a soft one, “It’s okay bebê, I know. I’d much rather have you in bed with me right now but you’ll be here tomorrow and we’ll be okay. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Do you really think so? That it won’t be like this forever?”

The whispered questions had left Leo’s lips before he could have thought about whether he ought to say them out aloud and he had halfheartedly expected Cristiano to raise an unamused eyebrow at what he had asked him, but the older man had merely tiled his head and had smiled at him. God, how Leo had wished that he could have kissed him in that moment. “I really do.” The Portuguese had moved his free hand through his curls, “There’ll be a day when we won’t have to hide anymore, bebê. I know that we have to... play this game for now, but I’ve never wanted to keep you hidden away and if I made you think that I do, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t,” Leo had repeated and that time, he had not needed to force himself to smile. “You never did, Cris. I just... really hate it that we don’t have another choice at the moment.” The distance between them had been a hindrance and had still done its job of breaking Leo’s heart sometimes, but it had not changed anything about the feelings he had harboured for his boyfriend. If all, Leo had suspected that it had made him appreciate what the two of them had more than he had ever done it when he had been together with Antonella, who had always lived with him ever since she had followed him to Spain. “I can’t wait to see you and Junior tomorrow, I refuse to believe that it’s been only two weeks.”

“Trust me bebê, I can’t wait either.” Cristiano’s laugh had been loud enough to fill out his bedroom, “I told you that I’d stop using the crutches today, right? You know what that means...” The Portuguese had winked at him and Leo had felt himself blushing, so as if being intimate with each other had been something new for the two of them, “Eu nunca vou me cansar de ver você corar assim, bebê. Tell me when you’ll land tomorrow and I’ll to pick you up from the airport.”

༻✦༺

When Leo had passed into the arrival hall of Adolfo Suárez Madrid–Barajas Airport not even twenty-four hours later, the underlying ache had been gone and replaced by excitement which had let him think that his heart had been mere seconds away from bursting out of his chest. He had been just so excited to be back in Madrid, to see Cristiano and Junior again and spend a few days not missing the both of them. Having collected his suitcase from the luggage carousel, the young Argentine had made his way to the same exit as always. It had made it easier for Cristiano and him to find each other without Leo having to wander through the entire parking lot or Cristiano having to get out of the car and risking to be spotted by fans or any paparazzi that might have followed them up to that point. Sure, he would have loved it if Cristiano would have been waiting for him right there in the arrival hall to give him a welcome hug, but he had known that they had been a long way away from that. Years, even.

Ignoring the handful of people that had stopped in their tracks to snap a photo of him without actually approaching him, Leo had pushed his sunglasses higher up the bridge of his nose and had excited the building. Over the months, Cristiano had begun to leave his Bugatti and Maserati in the garage and choose less flashy cars to pick the younger man up from the airport in order to not draw any more attention to them, though just like Leo had not seen any of Cristiano’s luxurious sports cars, he had not spotted the familiar Porsche or Mercedes either and it had been as if someone had pulled the plug on his excitement, causing his anxiety to skyrocket.

Cristiano had never once forgotten to pick him up and whenever he had been later, for whatever reason, he had always let him known and Leo’s mind had moved right on to imagine everything that could have happened that could have caused Cristiano to not make it to the airport on time. He had only prayed that there had been nothing wrong with either Junior or Dolores. A wave of nausea had swept over Leo as he had stepped aside so that he would not stand in midst the flow of people which had been moving in and out of the arrival hall before he had fumbled his phone out of the front pocket of his trousers. The last message he had gotten from the Portuguese had been the one telling him that Cristiano had been very excited to see him, that he loved him and that he would be there to pick him up from the airport. His boyfriend had not tried to reach him since he had boarded the flight to Madrid.

Forcing himself to draw in a deep breath in an attempt to push his nausea back down, he had dialled Cristiano’s number and had tightened the hold he had on the handle of his suitcase hard enough to his knuckles to stand out white. Instead of easying up, his nausea had become worse with every ring he had heard. Cristiano had picked up after the fifth. “Hey bebê,” his boyfriend had greeted him, sounding a bit out of breath but not as if there had been anything wrong. Leo had been able to make out chattering and what had unmistakably been Junior giggling from the other end of the line. “What is it?”

Somehow, Leo had, by then, already known that he would not like the answer he would get to the question he had been about to ask and he had felt confirmed when Cristiano had let out a sound as if he had been choking on something he had just taken a sip from. “Where are you?”

“What do you mean,” the older man had spluttered, sounding more confused than Leo had heard him in quite a long time. “What are you talking about?”

The laugh Leo had let out in return had been humourless, “I’m at the _airport_ , Cristiano. Remember how you told me that you would come and pick me up?”

Cristiano had let out a sound that had stood somewhere between a groan and a whimper, “Ai porra bebê I’m sorry, I thought that you’d land later...” Leo had been certain that Dolores had asked a question in the background, but Cristiano had not answered to her, “I promise that I’ll be there as soon as I can, yeah? Don’t leave bebê, I’ll hurry!”

“Very funny, where would I be supposed to-” The call had been ended before he had gotten to actually finish his answer and he had continued to hold the phone to his ear for a good few seconds after the line had gone dead. _Of course Cristiano had forgotten_. His initial relief that there had apparently been nothing wrong with either Junior or Dolores had been immense, of course, but so had been his annoyance as he he had been standing outside of the arrival hall and next to a rather angry looking business man, who had been taking deep drags from his cigarette in between the short sentences he snaps into his phone. It had not been as if his week had gone by especially easy and if Cristiano had not even been on the way to the airport, Leo would have quite some time to kill, but as they had not seen each other in two weeks, he had stopped himself from sending his boyfriend a message and asking how he would have felt if Leo would have forgotten about him for no real reason, or at least not a reason that had been important enough for Cristiano to mention it during their short conversation.

He had let out a huff, had put his phone away and had walked back into the arrival hall, since standing around like someone who had been forgotten only would have made him feel more on edge and he had not wanted them to fight, both because they would probably not get around to see each other in person again that month and because they had rarely ever gotten into real arguments, compared to how often there had been arguments going on between Gerard and Sergio or even Neymar and James. To pass some of the time as well as to calm himself down, Leo had made a beeline for the coffee shop which he had known could be found at the opposite end of the arrival hall and had ordered himself an iced coffee, accepting the inevitable interactions with fans who who had wanted selfies with or autographs for him even though he had been in enemy territory as a Blaugrana.

Given that there had been a surprising amount of young children approaching him, Leo never could have ignored them anyway and so he had ended up spending quite some time in the café, only leaving after he had made every single one of his little fans happy and had bought a second coffee. His phone had stayed unchecked while he had been in the café, and Leo had only retrieved it from where he had put it away once he had been making his way through the arrival hall for the third time on that Friday afternoon. As he had put it on silent, he had missed the text that Cristiano had send him over the span of the last fifteen minutes.

 _Cristiano:_ [I’m here, where are you? ❤️😘]

 _Cristiano:_ [Bebê I’m sorry for what happened, I promise that I can explain it all to you!]

 _Cristiano:_ [Missed voice call]

 _Cristiano:_ [Leo? 🥺]

The younger man had taken an almost deliberateyl slow sip from his iced coffee, but had sighed nonetheless and had needed to admit that he never could have stayed mad at his boyfriend even though this whole thing had annoyed him more than just a bit. As he would have needed to stop walking in order to text his boyfriend back, Leo had merely locked his phone and had put it away again in order to leave the arrival hall as quickly as he could have done it without attract any more attention and that time, he had caught sight of Cristiano’s Mercedes GLS before he had even exited the building. _Cristiano_. Just like it had happened all so often, Leo’s heart had somersaulted when he had seen the Portuguese waiting in his car and he had not really tried to keep himself from smiling as he had walked over to the Mercedes.

Cristiano had only looked up from where he had probably been typing away at his phone when Leo had come to stand by the trunk of the car and the younger man had put his coffee cup aside to put both his suitcase and his rucksack into the trunk, which had closed automatically one he had picked his cup back up and had set out to round the car in order to get to the passenger’s side. One last look over his shoulder to see whether an especially ruthless paparazzi had followed him, he had opened the door and had plopped down into the passenger’s seat.

His heart had missed a beat when neither him nor Cristiano had said anything to break the silence that had hung heavily above them and just when Leo had begun to wonder whether it had been him who had acted the wrong way, Cristiano had reached out and had put his hand onto Leo’s forearm, so as if he had not dared to touch his hand. “I’m sorry,” the Portuguese had said, keeping his hand on the younger man’s arm. “Bebê I’m sorry, I... I don’t know how I got it all mixed up I...” Cristiano’s hand had tightened its hold, only slightly so, “I’m really sorry.” Leo had smiled, had shaken his head and had, just as his boyfriend’s breath had hitched due to the lack of a proper answer, turned in his seat to lean over and kiss the other man’s cheek. He almost would have dropped and spilled his coffee in the cream-coloured interior of the Mercedes when Cristiano had cupped his face and had pulled him closer to kiss him, apparently not caring that someone could have made out their forms through the tinted windows, and Leo had melted into the touch.

“I can’t believe that you actually drink that stuff,” had been the first thing Cristiano had said after the kiss had ended. “Do you even know how much _sugar_ is in those drinks?” He had cocked an eyebrow as he had darted a look at the telltale cup in Leo’s hand and the younger man had snorted, lifting it to his lips to drink from it without taking his eyes off his boyfriend.

“And I can’t believe that you forgot about your own boyfriend,” Leo had retorted, and while his tone of voice had been a playful one, the look of remorse that had flashed over Cristiano’s face had been a sincere one and the Portuguese had put a hand onto Leo’s thigh, squeezing it a tad harder than he had done it to his forearm.

“I promise that I didn’t forget about you for no reason, bebê. There’s a reason.” A smile had grown on the older man’s face, “You’ll see when we’re home.”

Leo had sipped at his iced coffee when he had watched how Cristiano had started the engine and had swiftly steered the Mercedes out of the parking slot without pulling his hand away from Leo’s thigh. “You can tell me now, Cristiano.”

The smile on his boyfriend’s face had widened, “You’re right, I _could_. But I really want to show you so no, I won’t tell you, bebê.”

A few seconds of silence had followed Cristiano’s answer and when the Portuguese had cocked his eyebrow again to show just how vehement he had been about what he had said, Leo had sighed and had decided to give in, changing the topic instead, “How is your knee?”

“It’s getting better,” Cristiano had answered, taking his eyes off the road for a short moment to smile at Leo. “I’m glad that I was able to get rid of the crutches yesterday, I’m really too old to be reliant on my mother like that but I never could’ve handled Junior on my own.”

Leo’s own smile had grown wider at the mention of the three-year-old, “I can always take him with me to Barcelona, you know.” His boyfriend’s laugh had been loud and as honest as Leo had only ever heard it when they had been in private, and Leo had failed to sound serious as he continued, “What’s there to laugh about? I know that he’d love to stay with me, at least once in a while.”

“Oh bebê.” Cristiano had adjusted the hold he had on the younger man’s thigh, “I know that you two don’t really need me that much but Junior would be absolutely spoiled if he’d live with you. Why do you think that I asked my mother to stay with me for the last three weeks and not Ser, hm? You’re both spoiling him whenever you have the chance to.”

“I am _not_.”

Leo’s thigh had been squeezed once more and the knowing grin of Cristiano’s face had shifted into a smile that had made Leo’s heart soar and him feel like he would never move on from that initial _I’m so in love with my boyfriend_ phase of their relationship. Not that he had necessarily wanted to. “Oh no bebê don’t even try it with me, you definitely are spoiling him but... you know how much it means to me that you didn’t even hesitate before you accepted the both of us, that you didn’t just accept me.” The car had rolled to a stop at a red light, giving the Portuguese a chance to look at Leo not just out of the corner of his eye, “That’s not something many people would’ve done.”

Leo had put his free hand on top of Cristiano’s. “I never even thought about that being a chance before you mentioned it, Junior’s got me wrapped around his finger since day one.”

What he had said had elicited another laugh from his boyfriend, “That’s out of question, bebê.”

That he must had been smiling almost ridiculously wide after Cristiano had swerved the Mercedes onto the driveway of the Portuguese’s house, Leo had only realised when his boyfriend had chuckled and had cupped his chin to turn his head and place a gentle kiss on one, then the other corner of his mouth. “They’re excited to see you too, bebê.”

Even if Leo would not have made out Dolores’ voice during the short call he had with Cristiano earlier, he would have been surprised if he would not be about to meet Cristiano’s mother, as Junior had not been in the car with them, and so had merely nodded as he had unbuckled the seatbelt. He had missed the smile which had tugged at the corners of the older man’s mouth as he had climbed out of the car and had leaned his head back into his neck to empty the last bit of his iced coffee, blindly throwing the car door close behind him. Leo could have sworn that he had been buzzing with the same kind of excitement that would make his head feel dizzy whenever his team would manage to pull of a win. Given the turmoil that his feelings had been through in the past two weeks, he had hardly been able to wait to get to cuddle Junior again and he had continued to smile to himself as he had heaved his suitcase out of the trunk, shouldering his rucksack.

“Do you need help with that, docinho?”

That Dolores had since opened the front door, Leo had missed and he had laughed, setting the quite heavy suitcase down to turn around and look at the woman who had been standing in the opened door, “No thank you, I think I can manage on my own.”

Cristiano’s mother had smiled back at him and if he had not already felt at home when he had been sitting beside his boyfriend, getting such an warm and especially motherly greeting could have settled him right in. Those who had known about Cristiano’s and his relationship had also known, at least to some extend, that being in Madrid had felt more like a stay at home than his time in Barcelona between his trips to Madrid had for the past nineteen months and even though there could have been the potential risk of a paparazzi getting a shot of them, Dolores had pulled Leo into a hug before he had even fully stepped into the house. She had clicked her tongue, “It’s so good to see you again, docinho. How are you?” Like Cristiano’s mother had done it all so often, she had kept Leo close to pat his cheek, “You do look healthy.”

“I’m okay,” he had replied, smiling as well. “How are you?”

“Oh I am alright, docinho, as good as I can be,” Dolores had laughed, patting his cheek once more before she had stepped back and had waved both Leo and her son further into the house, latter who had been limping slightly due to the brace on his left leg. “I was worried that you might be in a bad mood for which I couldn’t have blamed you, given that Cristiano made you wait-”

“Mãe,” Cristiano had cut in from behind Leo, and the younger man had turned around just in time to see Cristiano trying to rub the blush out of his tanned cheeks while looking seriously ashamed. “Pare com isso, já me sinto tão mal.”

“I’m not really mad, he told me that there’s a reason-”

“Leeeooo!” Both Dolores and Cristiano had laughed at the way that Leo had whirled around to where the shout of his name had come from, but the Argentine had paid no attention to anyone other than Cristiano’s three-year-old son, who had almost stumbled over his own feet as he had been scampering from the living room. “Hi Leo, hi Leo,” Junior had giggled. His curls had been bouncing while he had dashed through the vestibule as fast as his short legs only could have carried him, “You’re baaack!” Crouching down, Leo had held his arms wide open to allow the toddler to run right into the hug that had since become a part of their routine whenever they would be reunited. “You’re back,” Junior had repeated with childlike wonder and Leo’s heart had ached, remembering what he had told Gerard not all too long ago.

 _“Junior cried when I left,” he had whispered, his gaze still turned up at the stars, “and that’s the worst thing, you know? He’s two years old Geri, he doesn’t understand why I’m always leaving and when I come back it’s always just to leave again and...” He had shaken his head once more, “I don’t know how it’ll go on.”_ It had still been painfully true, but Leo had managed to force that memory out of his mind as the three-year-old giggled even louder when he had scooped him off the ground to hug him closer. “Yeah niño I’m back, I missed you too...” The Argentine had trailed off at the small yapping sound which had been followed by the appearance of a yellow Labrador puppy that had come lolloping from the same direction that Junior had come running from a mere moment ago. “And who are you?”

“Puppy!” Junior had squealed and Leo had needed to change the hold he had on the three-year-old in order to be able to crouch down again, that time to greet the puppy that had come over to him just like Junior had done it.

“Hello you,” Leo had said with a low voice, scratching the puppy behind its ears. “Oh you’re so cute, yes you are!” Cristiano’s son had giggled, so as if Leo had said those things to him, and had made grabby hands at the small dog, though had not tried to wriggle and squirm out of Leo’s hold while Leo had given the puppy a few strokes down its neck for sitting almost perfectly still in the meantime.

“Her name is Marosca,” Cristiano had said, a bit out of the blue, just as the puppy had caught Leo’s forefinger to gnaw at it with tiny and harmless teeth.

Leo had hummed, “I didn’t know that you got a dog, Dolores. But she’s very cute.”

The younger man had not needed to look up in order to know that the hand which had come to rest atop his head had been Cristiano’s. “She’s ours, bebê. Not Mãe’s.”

“What?” Leo’s heart had soared more than he ever would have admitted it when he had craned his neck to look up at the Portuguese, “Are you serious?”

Cristiano had smiled, bending down to kiss his forehead, “Yeah bebê, she’s our dog. Ser brought her over earlier.”

“Our dog...?” The Portuguese had combed his hand through Leo’s hair while Leo had simply gaped at his boyfriend, but before either of them could have said another word, Dolores had suggested for them to move on to the living room instead of lingering around by the front door and Leo’s heart had vehemently refused to calm down as he had followed Cristiano and Dolores, Junior settled on his hip and Marosca waddling after him with a wagging tail.

 _Their dog?_ In hindsight, Leo would think that he probably should not have been so stuck on the choice of his boyfriend’s words, but in that very moment he had hardly been able to hate himself. _Their dog? As in a family dog?_ That Marosca had indeed been there to stay had been undeniable; a box of dog toys had found its place right next to the box of Junior’s toys which had stood beside the couch, a dog bed had been out by the large patio door and there had been as many dog toys strewn around as children’s toys. To say that Leo had only been a tad overwhelmed would have been a blatant lie. Cristiano had said something, but Leo had been too lost in his own thinking to catch on to that and it had only been when Cristiano had addressed him with his name that Leo had snapped back into the there and then and had set into motion, moving from where had been standing in the middle of the room to join Cristiano and Dolores on the couch.

His boyfriend had draped an arm around his shoulders as soon as he had sat down beside him and had pulled him into a side hug, pressing a gentle kiss against Leo’s temple while the younger man had made sure that Junior would not slip off his lap. “Marosca is supposed to be out dog,” Cristiano had repeated even though Leo had never said that he had doubted it, nuzzling Leo’s hair after he had muttered that. “And I’m sorry that I kept you waiting, bebê. I really thought that you wouldn’t land until six so I didn’t ask...”

Even if Leo still would have been mad at Cristiano, he never could have kept himself from melting into the hug at the apologetic tone of Cristiano’s voice. “So she’s the reason why I had to wait?”, he had asked, turning his head to look at the Portuguese, who yet had to get rid of the last remants of the blush that had crept up into his face at Dolores’ comment.

“Yeah,” Cristiano had muttered, bringing his free hand up as if to drive his fingers through his hair, though dropping it without ruining his perfectly coiffed curls. “Ser brought her over, stayed for a coffee and... you know, then you called.”

Leo’s answer had come in form of a hum and he had shifted his attention back towards Junior, who had been babbling while tugging at Leo’s shirt with one and pointing at the yellow Labrador puppy with his other chubby hand. “Is that your new friend?” He had dropped a kiss into Junior’s wild mess of curls, “Do you like her?”

“Puppy,” the three-year-old had squealed, kicking his short legs into the air. “Leo, I play with puppy now!”

“Do you want me to put you down?”

Cristiano’s son had nodded, “Uh-huh, I want down Leo!”

“Be careful niño,” Leo had said with a hint of gentle admonishment and he had kissed Junior on the top of his head once more as he had lifted him out of his lap, “don’t tease Marosca too much,” watching how the toddler had run off to where the puppy had been lolloping around in random circles. “I’ll go and bring my suitcase upstairs, I’ll be right back.”

“Sure docinho, you do that. Would you like a coffee? Or tea?”

“Tea would be good.” He had let out a small laugh and had removed Cristiano’s arm from around him to do it Cristiano’s mother alike by standing up from the couch, “I already had too much caffeine today.” Dolores had nodded and had smiled at him touching his arm when she had walked past him to make her way to the kitchen while Leo had hurried back to the vestibule to collect his luggage.

 _Cristiano had bought them a dog._ Even though he had not said it out aloud and there had been no one with him in that moment, he had blushed all over again and the fact that his heart had been palpitating had not been a result of him having carried his suitcase up the stairs. _They had a family dog._ Rolling the suitcase into the well-familiar bedroom, he had contemplated to text or call either Gerard or Neymar, but had eventually decided that he could do it once Dolores would have left and Junior would be sound asleep in bed. Dolores had still been in the kitchen when Leo had come back to the living room, just like his boyfriend had still been sitting in the same position on the couch, watching Junior and Marosca engaged in a quite adorable version of a tug-of-war game with one of the stuffed animals Cristiano must have bought for the puppy.

The younger man had frowned in confusion when Cristiano had looked at him with rather wide and uncertain eyes as he had crossed the room to sit down beside him again, but before Leo could have asked about what had been wrong, Cristiano had wrapped both arms around him and had pulled him into a hug that had made Leo feel like nothing ever could have reached him whenever he would be held like that. The kiss that Cristiano had captured his lips for had left him breathless.

“You’re still mad, aren’t you?”

Leo had tried to get a look at his boyfriend’s face, but Cristiano had hugged him closer when he had noticed him stirring, “What?”

“You’re still mad, bebê. Eu sei que é minha culpa, mas eu não aguento...”

“No I’m not, Cristiano.”

The Portuguese had pulled back without loosening the hold he had on the shammer man and if Leo would not have already gotten to know Cristiano’s more sensible side, which the older man had always denied in public, he would have been stunned instead of surprised. “You’re not?”

Making sure that his smile had been a wide one, Leo had brought up a hand and had put it onto Cristiano’s chest, tracing the outline of his pec with a languid finger as he had answered, “Okay I have to admit that I was mad when I called you but... I think I can forgive you for this one.” Cristiano had leaned down to kiss him rather than to respond verbally, hugging Leo impossibly close once again and Leo had felt his boyfriend smiling into the kiss when he had allowed Cristiano to pull him along and had curled up against his side, fully melting into the kiss as much as into the hug.

Given how lost the two of them had been in their moment, neither of them had noticed how Dolores had smiled at them after she had walked back into the living room, carrying a tray with cups of tea for them, a sippy cup for Junior and a plate of cookies. She had set the tray down onto the coffee table, “Your tea, docinho.” Leo had flinched. He had felt himself blushing against his own will, as putting up a PDA session for Cristiano’s mother had not really been what he had wanted to do, and tried to wriggle out of Cristiano’s arms to reach for his tea cup, failing to do so when the Cristiano had kept him close nonetheless, nuzzling his hair and and making him feel as comfortable as he could have felt with someone holding him like that. “Deixa ele tomar o chá dele,” Dolores had laughed, “você pode acariciar com ele mais tarde,” smiling at her son and his boyfriend.

“No,” had been all that Cristiano had muttered and Leo had rolled his eyes, failing to suppress a snort at the way that Cristiano had sounded like his three-year-old son. He had, however, only really tried to shrug Cristiano’s arms off once he had begun to fear that his tea could go cold and the Portuguese had let him go after one more kiss. “I love you, bebê.”

“I love you too,” Leo had said; he had barely managed to take two careful sips from the thankfully still hot tea before Junior had tried to climb onto his lap again, apparently having grown tired of playing with Marosca and wanting to be held instead.

The toddler had been surprisingly vehement about getting onto Leo’s lap without any help. “No Pai,” Junior had said with quite the serious tone when Cristiano had reached out and had wanted to help his three-year-old son, “ _nonono_ Pai! _No_ help!”

Leo had tried his hardest to stop himself from laughing at the small grunts that had come from Junior as the boy had indeed attempted to do it on his own, but it could not have been after more than half a minute that the three-year-old’s grunts had turned into whines and Leo had picked him up, making Junior giggle from one second to another. “You’re not quite big enough to do that yet, hm?” Cristiano’s son had merely giggled and had plopped down onto Leo’s lap, claiming it as if it had been his very own throne and wrapping his short arms around Leo as much as he could have done it. Leo had hidden his smile in Junior’s curls, forgetting about his tea then that he had his favourite three-year-old on his lap and in his arms. He had known just what he had missed whenever he would be alone in Barcelona. “I missed you so much, niño,” he had whispered, keeping one arm wrapped around Junior and moving his free hand over his back while the toddler had relaxed against him. “You know that, right? That I’m always missing you _so much_ when I’m not with you and your Pai?”

Just like Leo had expected it, Junior had not answered to the confession he had whispered into his hair and the living room had fallen into comfortable silence while Leo had combed one of his hands through the wild mess of the toddler’s hair and had moved his other over Junior’s back as if to soothe him. The moment had only come to an end when Cristiano had laid his arm over Leo’s shoulders again and had pulled him a bit closer to kiss the younger man’s temple. “Drink your tea, bebê,” the Portuguese had whispered, letting a small laugh follow his words at the way that Leo had merely hummed without stopping either of the comforting gestures and when it must have become clear to him that Leo would tend to his tea any time soon, he had pulled his arm back to pick up the cup for his boyfriend, offering it and one of the cookies Dolores had baked to him. “Bebê, your tea.”

Leo had promptly blushed, realising that his lack of a verbal answer could have implied that he had wanted Cristiano to do it for him. “Thank you,” he had muttered, mustering a smile as he had accepted the tea cup, cookie and the kiss that Cristiano had placed on his kiss, careful that he would not accidentally spill any of the hot tea onto the toddler in his lap.

When he almost did end up dropping the cup, it had been due to Junior, who had snatched the cookie out of his hand with an excited squeal, “Cookie!”

Junior’s childlike laughter and toothy grin had died down the very second that Cristiano had made a disapproving sound and had taken the cookie away from his son in return. “É isso que fazemos? Pegando coisas sem pedir? Não é não e você sabe disso, Junior,” Cristiano had chided. “Se você quer algo, você pede e espera uma resposta. Voce entende?”

The Portuguese’s tone had been gentle but undeniably strict and Junior’s bottom lip had quivered, his wide, tear-filled eyes going back and forth between his father’s face and and the cookie that had been taken from him. “Cookie,” the three-year-old had whispered, his breath hitching and the first crocodile tear rolling down his chubby cheek. The grabby hands he had made had only rounded the picture off, “Pai, cookie please...”

Leo’s heart had ached at the look of heartbreak on Junior’s face and a small voice in the back of his mind had reminded him that the boy really had him wrapped around his finger, as he already would have given in by then if Cristiano’s and his role would have been reversed. Cristiano had given his son a pointed look that had lasted for a few more seconds before his eyebrow had lowered, the stern expression had been replaced by a smile and he had handed the cookie back to Junior, who had kept his impossibly wide puppy dog eyes fixed on his father as he had brought the cookie to his mouth and had leaned back against Leo’s chest with a well-placed sniffle.

“Você está cansado, não está meu amor?” Cristiano had asked with a much softer tone of voice, reaching brush Junior’s hair away from his forehead.

“No tired,” the three-year-old had spoken around his cookie, huffing as if to underline what he had said and curling the fingers of his free hand into Leo’s shirt, “no tired, Pai.”

“It’s almost time for dinner,” Dolores had noted, smiling at the her son, her grandson and her son’s boyfriend over the rim of her cup, “and before you ask: _no_ , I don’t need your help in the kitchen, docinho. Cristiano and I will get it done on our own.”

The blush on Leo’s face had darkened, making Cristiano laugh and Dolores’ smile grow wider without coming across as a teasing one, and Junior letting out another little huff had given the Argentine an excuse to avert his gaze without admitting that it had been due to embarrasment. “What is it, niño?”, he had whispered to Cristiano’s son, faking a gasp when he had seen that the three-year-old had already eaten the cookie he had been given a short moment ago. “What? Your cookie is already gone? Oh no!”

“Uh-huh, it’s gone Leo.” Junior’s voice had been even tinier than it had been earlier and he had turned his wide, pleading eyes up at Leo, peaking at him through his dark eyelashes, “Leo can I have another one? Please?”

Leo had smiled and had placed a kiss atop the toddler’s head, keeping a secure arm around Junior’s waist as he had leaned over to angle another cookie from the plate. He had dropped another kiss into Junior’s curls when he had handed him the baked treat, “Two cookies before dinner should be acceptable, niño.”

“Thank youuu,” Cristiano’s son had squealed, squirming around on Leo’s lap in excitement over the cookie he had been given and Leo had laughed to himself, going right back to stroking Junior’s back. “Leo?”

“Hm?”

It might have been more than just a bit ridiculous and he never would have admitted it, but Leo’s heart had soared when the boy on his lap had held up the cookie that had only been nibbled at on one corner, “You want?”

The three-year-had squealed from laughter after his face had been cupped and one of his chubby cheeks had been peppered with kisses, squirming in Leo’s lap without really trying to get away. “Thank you niño,” Leo had laughed, perfectly oblivious to how Cristiano had fumbled his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants to take a photo of them. “Thank you _so much_ , but you can eat it all by yourself.”

“’kay!” Junior had giggled, kicking his short legs against the cushion of the couch when he had brought the cookie to his mouth again, “I eat it!”

Other than Leo had expected, Dolores had been more vehement about not accepting any help from him than she had been in quite some time and Leo had swallowed down one last question at the playfully stern look he had received from his boyfriend’s mother after Dolores and Cristiano had stood up to take care of dinner, staying behind in the living room with Junior and Marosca. It had not taken more than a few moments before the Argentine had a lapful of both the toddler and the yellow Labrador puppy, who had both been eager for his attention and Junior had almost fought Marosca to be the first one that he would cuddle with once he had moved to sit on the floor rather than the couch.

“Leo Leo Leo,” Cristiano’s son had babbled, giggling in childlike amusement as he had wriggled out of the embrace Leo had him in to try and climb onto Leo’s shoulder, his foot only just so missing Leo’s groin and the three-year-old’s laughter had grown even lounder when he had been caught around the waist and pulled back down into a hug. “Leeeooo!”

“No climbing, okay niño? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Behind Leo, Cristiano had leaned against the frame of the door that had connected the living room to the vestibule and had tilted his head as he had watched his boyfriend, his young son and the newest addition to their little family, an absentminded smile stuck on his face. The Portuguese had rarely ever mentioned it, and if he had it had been around his mother more often than Leo, but he had been absolutely in love by how Leo would forget everything and everyone around him when he would be with Junior. God had known how many years he had spend wishing for a scene like the one he had been watching to take place in his living room and if it would not have been for the dinner that his mother and him had thrown together, he could have stood right there and watched them for minutes on end without growing tired of it. “Come on you two, it’s time to get washed up.”

Leo had let out a sound of surprise and had whirled rather than turned around when Cristiano had spoken up, clearly not having expected to hear his boyfriend’s voice. He had been met with one of the Portuguese’s warm smiles that had never failed to make his heart soar.

“Dinner is ready.”

“Already? That was rather quick,” Leo had answered after a short pause, smiling as he had dropped a kiss onto the top of Junior’s head before he had lifted the toddler out of his lap and doing the same with the yellow Labrador puppy that had been sprawled out over Leo’s legs and gnawing on one of its squeaky toys.

Junior had already run off and out of the living room before Leo had even clambered onto his feet and the Argentine had suspected that it had been a behaviour Junior must have picked up from when it would be time to eat in kindergarten. “Leeeooo!”

“I’m coming niño,” he had laughed, allowing Cristiano to catch him around the waist and pull him into a kiss when he had moved past him in order to get to the guest bathroom Junior had just dashed off to.

“Eu te amo, bebê,” Cristiano had muttered, kissing a corner of Leo’s mouth before he had allowed his boyfriend to wriggle out of the hold he had him in. The younger man had smiled back, giving Cristiano’s hand an almost reassuring squeeze where it had been resting on his waist and the way that Cristiano’s smile had widened had told him that the wordless answer had come across like he had intended it to. “Não sei o que fiz para te merecer-”

“Leo!”

Cristiano had ducked his head to kiss him once more and Leo would have been inclined to stay pressed flush against his boyfriend and as the focus of his unshared attention for a little while longer if it would not have been for the short-lived but rather loud commotion that had followed the shout of his name and which had triggered the protective instincts the Argentine had in regards to the three-year-old.

The Portuguese had hummed, even though he had been rather unhappy to have Leo wriggling out of his embrace and the grin on his face had been a wide one. “I really hate to see you leave but I sure love to watch you go, bebê,” he had chirped, laughing at the unimpressed look Leo had given him over his shoulder for having used one of the most kitschy lines in existence. The younger man had been been thankful that he had been in the position to snap his head back around, as he had blushed quite furiously and against his own will when Cristiano had given one of his backside cheeks an almost promising squeeze just as Dolores had made an appearance from the kitchen and he had remembered what Cristiano had more or less assured him would happen once his boyfriend would no longer be reliant on his crutches.

“What’s all of this noise about, niño?” Leo had asked, peaking into the guest bathroom of the lower floor. His smile had widened as much as it had been possible while he had watched how Junior had been in the process of pulling his little step stool out from where it had been stashed underneath the vanity unit. It had been the one that Cristiano had more or less banished from the main bathroom upstairs the very moment that Junior had been given it because the stool had been a gift from Sergio - which had explained why it had been bright pink, with glitter stars and horses all over it. Leo had since stopped trying to convince Cristiano that his reaction to the gift had indeed been more than a bit embarrassing and over the top. The three-year-old had squeaked when he had spotted Leo standing in the door and had clambered onto the stop stool, making grabby hands at the sink. “You’re such a big boy,” the Argentine had praised Junior’s behaviour and he had shaken his head, just once and only when the boy had not been looking at him, as he had a hard time believing that Junior had not even been able to properly walk when he had first met him. “Ready to wash your hands now?”

Cristiano’s son had nodded surprisingly serious for a toddler of his age, “Uh-huh Leo, wash hands now!”, and the three-year-old had resumed his childlike babbling while Leo had made sure that the water had neither been too cold nor too hot and had guided his hands under the stream before he had squirted a bit of soap into one of Junior’s small hands and had helped him with the suds, until Junior had taken the initiative and had washed his hands on his own. The young boy had twisted his head back to direct a toothy smile up at Leo, obviously craving praise that Leo had given him in form of a smile and a kiss atop his head of wild curls.

It had taken a few minutes until the two had been ready to leave the bathroom, simply because Leo had lacked the heart to rob Junior of the joy he had found in playing with the soap bubbles between his tiny fingers. By the time that Leo had hoisted the three-year-old up to balance him on his hip, the lower floor had been filled with the quite mouthwatering smell of dinner and the clatter of dishes being moved around on a table. He had bursted into laughter at the way that Junior’s stomach had grumbled and the boy had gasped, smacking the hand that had not been holding onto Leo’s shirt against his tummy and looking up at Leo with wide eyes. “Yeah, that smells good, doesn’t it?”

The toddler had brought his hand down once more, “I hungry...”

“I’m hungry too, niño.”

“You’re hungry?”

Leo had laughed, eliciting a squeal from Cristiano’s son by blowing raspberries against one of his chubby cheeks. “Of course! I’m so hungry,” he had said with a stage-whisper as he had walked around a corner and through the doorway that had separated the open space of the living room from the dining area. “Can you hear my stomach, too?” Leo had only just so stopped himself from burning up when both Dolores and Cristiano had chuckled, he had clearly underestimated how loudly he had been ‘whispering’ to the toddler and he had hoisted Junior a bit higher onto his hip. “I-I mean it does smell good...”

“It’s just pasta, docinho,” Dolores had retorted, though neither her laugh nor the smile on her face had teasing and she had beckoned the younger man over to get him to sit down at the table and Leo had had come after her wish, trying his hardest to force the colour out of his face while he had moved. He had both hated and somehow loved that it had only ever been with Cristiano and Dolores, aside from his closest friends, he had not needed to mind his pecho frío façade.

While he had worked on getting Junior strapped into his high chair, Dolores had begun to fill the plates with pasta and Cristiano had divved the salad up into three more or less equal portions. The Argentine had made sure that it had been impossible for Junior to wriggle out before he had sat down in the free chair to the toddler’s left, allowing the three-year-old to grasp his hand. Junior had held onto Leo’s middle finger, slapping his free hand onto the plastic table of his chair with quite the force behind it.

“Pare com isso,” Cristiano had chided his young son, putting his hand on top of Junior’s to show that he had been anything but amused by his behaviour. Junior, however, had been as unimpressed as ever by the stern look his father had given him. The toddler’s antics had only died down when Dolores had put a plate of pasta down in front of him and the adults had shared a laugh over how he had scrambled to grab his fork and get the first load of chopped-up spaghetti into his mouth.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all safe and healthy during these difficult times. I'm slowly getting better, it's taking longer than I thought it would but the hard semester at uni combined with the continuous lockdown we go through here in Austria really drained me and made my writing more rusty than it has been in a very long time. I'm just happy that I can work on Perfect Paradise at all, even if it's not the best thing I've ever written :-) 
> 
> Not betaed, all mistakes are mine.

**_Tuesday, 06. September 2016._ **

It had been the little things that had more or less gotten Leo through his days, that had made him wonder how he had ever managed to live without them in the first place and hope that there would not ever be a day when he would have to do without them.

There would be a good morning text from Cristiano waiting to be read when he would wake up in the morning, which would soon be followed by a selfie of Cristiano and little Junior having breakfast together and a promise that he had been missed by the both of them. Cristiano and him would talk while he would be on the way to the training grounds and Gerard would always tease him a bit about the faint blush on his face when his friend would hand him their ritual morning coffee even though Gerard would tell him about the call he had with Sergio in return without hesitation. Cristiano would send him texts throughout the day, sometimes to remind him that he had loved and missed him like he always had whenever they had been apart, other times the Portuguese would ask how Leo had been doing and when he would be able to talk again and Leo would look out for it every day anew, his mind wandering back to the phone in his gym bag while he would be running laps around the pitch with his teammates.

It had not only been Cristiano who had brought more of the family he had in Madrid into the daily life he had lived in Barcelona, but Dolores too. Since Cristiano had let his training session with the team be followed by an extended stay in the gym under the pretence that a single workout had not been enough, it had been up to Cristiano’s mother to take care of Marosca and to pick Junior up from kindergarten around midday. Dolores would always send him dozens of photos of both Junior and the Labrador puppy that had seemed to grow from day to day, which had acted as painful reminders of how much time had passed since Leo had last been in Madrid just as much as they had been a joy to see, because while he had gotten a chance to see them grow up, it had been from a distance more often than he had actually been there to witness it.

She would send him photos of Junior snacking on a banana and cuddling with his Barça teddy while he would watch a cartoon, of him napping on the couch, of the three-year-old playing with the horse toys Leo had bought him for his third birthday, having a playful tug-of-war game with Marosca or showing the widest of smiles while Dolores would push him on the swing set of the playground near her house. Leo had saved each and every single photo, even the blurry and repetitive ones, in the dedicated folder on his phone, but he never would have dreamed to ask either his boyfriend or his boyfriend’s mother to send him so much as a fraction of the messages and photos because as much as he had loved the feeling of being included, he had not wanted to interrupt their lives more than he had already been doing it by being Cristiano’s boyfriend who had lived hundreds of kilometer away from them.

Cristiano on the other hand, however, had made it his very own mission to integrate Leo into his daily routine as much as modern technology and the distance between them had allowed him to and oh, the Argentine had never once complained about his way of doing it. Not when it had given him a chance to see Cristiano working out in his gym without a shirt on, his tanned, immaculate skin pulled tight over chiseled muscles and glistering with a thin sheet of sweat as the older man would do pull-ups, offering Leo a breathtaking view while he would cook himself dinner or rinse the dishes and no matter that he would see it for the nth time, the younger man had always ended up blushing and flustering under Cristiano’s knowing looks and teasing smiles.

If the two of them would not have already made the decision to be open about their relationship around their closest friends, it would have been impossible for either of them to make sure that they would not find out as their FaceTime calls had lasted for hours on end more often than they had been kept short. Leo had been uncertain about them at first, not wanting Cristiano to think that he had demanded them as some sort of chore, though when he had tried to remind him of it, the Portuguese had cocked an eyebrow as if to wordlessly dare him to finish the sentence he had just started and Leo had thus snapped his mouth shut, blushing to a darker shade when Cristiano had spoken with am unexpected low and purring voice.

“Until we’ll be able to live together,” he had said, wiping at the beads of sweat on his forehead without taking his eyes off Leo and even through the phone, the younger man had felt Cristiano’s eyes burning right into him, “and your pretty face isn’t the first thing I see in the morning, bebê, our FaceTime calls will have to do.” Leo had worried his lips between his teeth, looking down at where his thumb had been absentmindedly tracing the rim of his coffee cup rather than at his boyfriend. He had not said it, but he had been more than a tad bit frightened that Cristiano had looked at it as a chore, a burden, even, because the emptiness that would dominate Leo’s house once the FaceTime calls would come to an end would always be deafening and he had dreaded having to do without it. He had been pulled out of his thoughts when Cristiano had hummed, the Portuguese’s smile turning into a smirk. “If you don’t want to show me your pretty face... there’s another part of you that I always love to see, bebê.”

Even if Leo would not have caught onto what Cristiano had meant _with another part of him_ , his boyfriend’s smirk would have been telltale enough and he had bursted into laughter, taking a sip from his Latte Macchiato in an attempt to hide the colour that had shot into his face, “Absolutely not, Cristiano.”

“Please?” Instead of retorting right away, Leo had taken a bigger sip from the hot beverage, almost choking on it when Cristiano had hit him with puppy dog eyes and a pout that could have put Junior’s into its shadow, “Please? Pretty please, bebê? Só desta vez e não vou pedir de novo por... alguns dias. Eu realmente sinto falta da sua bunda.”

If it would have been the case and Leo would have been inclined to give in to his boyfriend’s pleading, his willingness would have flown right out of the window as there had suddenly been Sergio’s face in the frame, blocking the view Leo had of Cristiano’s face with an almost ridiculously wide smile, “Hi Leo!”

“Stop it,” the Portuguese had cut his best friend off, tilting his phone so that all Leo had been able to look at had been Cristiano’s pectorals, latter about which Leo had not complained. “Ser, don’t-”

“What? It’s not like you never caught Geri and me having se-”

“We weren’t doing anything,” Cristiano had snapped with quite the bite behind it and Leo had directed a laugh into his coffee, rolling his eyes then that neither one of the Blancos had been able to see and possibly tease him about it. “I was _talking_ to my boyfriend, Sergio, and you’re disturbing our conversation!”

There had been a small commotion when Sergio had the audacity to try and pry the phone out of Cristiano’s hands, “I understood enough to know that you want Leo to drop his pants just so that you have something nice to look at, you can’t fool me.”

“Oh my God,” Leo had choked out rather than whispered to himself, blushing to an embarrassing shade of red. He might have known that Cristiano’s and Sergio’s friendship had been just as close as Gerard’s and his, but hearing that had not been what he had expected or really wanted to hear.

The Spaniard had eventually managed to get the phone out of Cristiano’s hands and had winked at Leo, who had shielded his eyes with his free hand as the colour on his face had darkened. “Can you get Geri on the phone?”

“Ser, give me my phone. Agora, pare de jogar!”

Sergio had rolled his eyes as he had put some distance between Cristiano and himself, so as if he had been in the right and had not interrupted Leo’s and Cristiano’s conversation, “Leo, is Geri there? Can I speak to him?”

“No he’s not with me,” Leo had snorted, setting his then empty Latte Macchiato glass down for the last time and shaken his head at the antics that would have fit Junior better than Real Madrid’s captain. “I think he’s meeting his mother for dinner.” The older man’s face had scrunched up at Leo’s answer, making it very clear that he had thought he would get the chance to speak to his own boyfriend at the given chance and if the same scene would have taken place a year ago, Leo would have laughed at anyone who would have claimed that he would think of _Sergio Ramos_ and _adorable_ in the same context, but the pout which had formed on the Spaniard’s face had been rather adorable. Not that he had voiced it out, of course, because he surely would not live to see the day that Sergio would let it die down.

“I tried to call him like a hundred times and he didn’t answer, makes me wonder why he even has a phone to begin with... Cris here isn’t the only one who’s missing someone, you know. Long-distance is the _worst_ -”

“Pare de brincar, droga, você é pior do que a porra de uma criança!” With more strength than would have been necessary, Cristiano had snatched the towel from around his neck, had rolled it up and had, judged by the sound of it and Sergio’s reaction that had followed immediately, whipped it against the back of the Spaniard’s thighs and had used the moment to claim possession over his phone again, “I’m sorry for that, I should’ve known better than to try and have a serious conversation when Ser is with me.”

The look that Cristiano had given his best friend and captain had been nothing short of devastating and Leo had almost shuddered at the memory of when he had been the one that Cristiano had glared at him like that on the pitch. Sergio had muttered something under his breath but had wandered off, and the Portuguese had rolled his eyes before he had looked down at his phone and at Leo again, a smile forming on his face as he done so, “I think that I’ll call you later bebê, I don’t want him to look at me like I kicked a puppy for the rest of the day.”

Leo had hummed in agreement; he might have felt the slightest twinge of disappointment at their call coming to a premature end, but had not tried to convince Cristiano that it had been possible for them to continue talking, as that only would have made him come across as even more clingy, something that he had wanted to prevent at all costs. “Is he three or thirty years old,” he had asked with a stage whisper so that it had not only been Cristiano who had heard him, but Sergio as well and Leo had laughed at the indignant sound which had come from the Spaniard.

“What the hell,” Sergio had called out from where he had been out of Leo’s sight, though the laugh that had followed his shout had shown that he had not been as angry as he had pretended to be, “I thought we’re friends, Leo! Great, what am I supposed to tell Geri now? That I lied to him and that we’re still frenemies?”

Cristiano had cocked an eyebrow at his best friend before he had thrown his head to laugh, “To tell you the truth bebê, I think that Junior is easier to handle than Ser over here.”

༻✦༺

Given how integrated the near constant texting and FaceTime calls had been in his life, it should not have taken Leo long to notice that there had been something wrong during that Tuesday in early September, but in hindsight, he would curse himself from time to time for not having caught the hints earlier and simply having accepted it when Cristiano had texted him, much earlier than he had done on other mornings, to let him know that he would probably not get around to talk to Leo that day. The Portuguese had excused it, halfheartedly at best, with the stressful day he would have and when Leo had read the text a couple of minutes after he had woken up, he had been too drowsy to wonder about why Cristiano had not lost a single word about any stressful day when the two of them had talked on the phone the evening before.

Despite Cristiano’s heads-up, Leo had caught himself checking his phone so often during breakfast that it could have come across as an addictive behaviour to anyone who had not known about his motive behind it and the Argentine had needed to admit it to himself that especially the texting had since become a crucial part of his routine that had then been missing, resulting in his mood turning sour while he had been sitting at his kitchen table for breakfast, stirring his coffee listlessly. His spirits had been lifted, though not as much as Leo had hoped it would, when the first one of Dolores’ text had popped up on his phone and had immediately been followed by a photo of Junior, because Cristiano had usually taken it onto himself to bring his three-year-old son to kindergarten so that he could use every minute he could get with Junior and leave his mother to pick him up again around midday.

Leo had failed to shake off the worried thoughts that had crept up on him in the back of his mind, reigniting the anxiety which had been all too prominent in his life during the first few weeks and months of Cristiano’s and his relationship, and while he had tried to argue with himself that he had absolutely no reason to worry, the nagging thoughts had still been there when he had slipped into the driver’s seat of his Mercedes about fourty minutes later, sitting there instead of starting the engine right away. His fingers had drummed against the steering wheel without him having really been aware of it and Leo had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he had reached out to take his phone from where he had put it into the storage compartment of the center console, hesitating for a moment longer before he had unlocked it and had opened Cristiano’s chat.

The message he had send him earlier, telling him that it had been okay and that they could just talk later, had been delivered, but still unread by Cristiano. Leo had swallowed uneasily as he had typed another message, [I’m on my way to training now, I hope your day isn’t too bad already. I love you <3] His, in his eyes utterly unnecessary, anxiety had established itself during the drive to Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper and had noticed his mood gradually getting worse, mainly so from worry that there had been something going on he had missed - and that he, as unlikely as it might have been, could lose the life he had in Madrid.

When he had steered his car onto the parking lot of his team’s training center, Gerard had already been waiting for him. The Catalan had stood leaned against the hood of his own car, had balanced two cups of coffee in one hand and had held his phone to his ear with his free hand, apparently engaged in a lively conversation if Leo would have judged by the smile as well as the blush that the other had been spotting. Leo had known that his best friend had been talking to Sergio before he had even gotten out of the car. “Mhm we’ll see about that when you come here on Friday, Papi,” Gerard had spoken into the phone with a sly tone of voice, giving a small nod into Leo’s direction to show that he had acknowledged the younger man’s presence. “I’ll call you when I’m home.”

Gerard had laughed out loud at whatever it had been that Sergio had responded with on the other end of the line and Leo had failed to prevent the stab of jealousy he had known he had no right to feel, and it had made him feel worse all over again. Forcing himself to a rather tight-lipped smile, he had accepted the coffee which had been offered to him and had muttered a thanks, taking small, careful sips of the hot beverage while Gerard had ended the phone call with his boyfriend and had put his phone away into the front pocket of his sweatpants.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Having known that the question had been inevitable, Leo had merely nodded, smiled and raised the rim of the paper cup to his lips again, accepting a nearly scolded tongue over a conversation that could have turned out to be even more uncomfortable and so the two of them had not talked while they had crossed the parking lot and had made their way into the building.

In a stark contrast to how Leo had felt, the atmosphere in the changing room had been as good as ever. He had thus kept to himsel while he had gotten changed, as he had not wanted to ruin his friends’ and teammates’ mood by babbling about the anxious thoughts and worries which he had not even been able to explain to himself and all the more so since he had already been in an inner conflict. There had been a few curious looks from Neymar and the others, but thankfully no questions and Leo had been the first one who had left the changing room, setting out to run laps around the pitch without Enrique telling him to do so.

Leo had known that his reaction had been unfounded and that he would have felt more stupid than he already had if he would have told Gerard and Neymar, and especially Cristiano - the Portuguese would have been the last person he would have opened up to about it. Leo had not been that desperate. He had nearly slipped in his resolution when he had suddenly found himself in between Gerard and Neymar, who had both gently nudged him in the rips as they had jogged side by side. “You look like someone told you Real wants to sign you.” Neymar had brought a hand up to ruffle through Leo’s hair and had chortled before he had turned serious again, “What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Leo had been very much aware that his answer had followed a bit too quickly to come across as believable or convincing and the look that his two best friends had exchanged in return had made him swallow hard.

“Is it Cristiano?” Gerard’s voice had not been raised above a whisper so that Rafinha and Luis, who had been jogging behind them, could not have heard what he had said and Leo had drawn in a breath to steady himself. “What did he do?”

The Argentine had let it out with a sigh, “No, it’s not him.” There had been a short pause during which neither he nor his friends had spoken, and to ease the tension that had come up, he had added, “I promise that it has nothing to do with him, I just... I had a weird morning. I’m okay, though. I promise.” The sharp sound of Enrique’s whistle had cut the moment to an end and Leo had turned around to see their coach beckoning him over, apparently wanting to talk to him. “I’ll go and... yeah,” he had muttered, giving a halfhearted smile to his friends before he had set out to cross the pitch to get to Enrique.

༻✦༺

Neymar had watched Leo go, only just so resisting the urge to follow after him and pull him into an impromptu hug, and had shaken his head before he had turned back around to resume his warm-up, only to have Gerard catch him by the arm and hinder him from moving.

“I swear to God, I’ll break his _fucking_ legs,” the Catalan had snapped, rapidly clenching and unclenching his jaw as if it had been the only thing that had helped him to keep his composure upright and while there had been something akin to hate burning in Gerard’s eyes, it had not been directed at Neymar, latter for which the Brazilian had been incredibly grateful for.

The few times that he had been the unlucky target of Gerard’s glares had been terrifying and an experience that had never been worth a repetition. He had put his hand on top of his friend’s and had cocked his head slightly to his right, hoping to get a chance to talk without attracting any more attention from either the teammates, the paparazzi or those who had come to watch the training session, but he had needed to drag the taller man along for the first few meters when Gerard had merely continued to stare into the direction of where Leo had been talking to Enrique.

“I’ll fucking break his legs,” Gerard had repeated with even more bite behind it than a moment ago and Neymar had let out a noncommital sound in return, letting go of his friend’s arm to frown up at him.

“Why the hell do you want to break Leo’s legs? What did he do?”

The Catalan had laughed, the look on his face telling all about how he had not been able to believe that Neymar had misunderstood him. “Not Leo’s,” he had retorted once his laughter had died down. “Ronaldo’s.”

Neymar’s eyes had widened, “You think that something happened between them?”

“Yeah, you’ve seen him!” Gerard had drawn in a breath, had kept it in his lungs for a couple of seconds and had released it with an almost defeated sigh, “I _know_ that something happened, I just know it and if I find out that Ronaldo... I swear to God, if I find out that he hurt Leo intentionally I’ll get onto the next flight to Madrid that I can and make him regret ever getting the idea to talk to Leo in the first place.”

While Neymar had been in the same boat as Gerard per se, he had more or less forced himself to remain calm with a clear head, at least then that neither of them had any idea about what had even taken place between Leo and the Portuguese and he had patted Gerard’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. It might have been true that they had all gotten closer over the course of the past two years or so due to the relationships they had been in and the fact that their boyfriends had been just as close as Neymar, Gerard and Leo themselves had been, it had been no real secret how Gerard yet had to fully warm up when it had come to Cristiano and Neymar had absolutely no doubts that Gerard, if Cristiano had indeed messed up, would not hesitate to fly across the country to prove his point. “I mean... I don’t think that we should meddle in if it was just an argument, at least not unless Leo asks us to.”

Gerard had shaken his head, though not necessarily in negation. “When does Leo ever get into arguments, Ney,” he had muttered. “And you know how Ronaldo can be from time to time, he still thinks that he’s a god walking amongst mere mortals.” Neymar had opened his mouth to retort something, but had closed it without having said a single word because he never could have fought what Gerard had stated. “I’ll call Ser as soon as I can,” the Catalan had continued. “If something happened, which I know it did, he’ll be able to tell me. Déu sap que estan units al maluc.”

Having caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, Neymar had nudged Gerard once he had realised that Leo had been making his way back towards them. “I’ll ask James too,” he had whispered, and with that the topic had been dropped between them.

༻✦༺

Leo had cursed himself. Not out loud, of course, the privacy of his mind had needed to suffice until he would be back home because if _Enrique_ had noticed that there had been something going on with him and that he had not been on the height of his spirits, Leo had not been doing half as good of a job at hiding it as he had thought he had and the last thing he had wanted had been any more attention, not from his friends and especially not from his coach. To say that he had needed to haul himself through training would not have been a lie, even if Leo had tried to convince himself that he had succeeded at forcing his anxiety down as long as his legs had been burning and his heart had beaten against his rips like a jackhammer.

He had not missed the looks he had gotten from Gerard and Neymar when he had joined them after his conversation with Enrique, he really should not have been surprised that the people he had been close to for many years had seen right through his lies, of which Leo had known that they had come across as an embarassingly bad attempt to hide how he had been feeling. It had cost him a lot to not just excuse himself and disappear back into the changing room to check whether Cristiano had answered, or at least read his texts in the meantime. His thoughts had been repeating in his mind much like a broken record; when he had tried to reason with his own anxiety, had tried to tell himself that something _could_ have come up, that he had known how busy Cristiano’s schedule had gotten from time to time and that Dolores would have let him know if anything bad had happened but no matter how many times the Argentine had attempted to reassure himself, he had also been reminded of how their relationship had more or less been hanging at a thread.

They had not yet dared to take the step that Neymar and James had taken over two years ago by going out of hiding about their relationship, so there would not be any real turmoil if Cristiano and him should happen to go parted ways. Junior might have known him then and had been able to remember him, but the boy had only been three years old and how many children had memories of their time as a toddler once they go to elementary school? Leo had more or less broken his mind over the question whether or not the sudden change in Cristiano’s behaviour towards him had been due to something that _he_ had done wrong without realising it? He had already checked the calendar on his phone about half a dozen times, but as far as he had known, there had not been any birthdays, anniversaries or otherwise important occasions due on that certain Tuesday, so what had he forgotten about or done wrong?

Leo had needed to take a break after having completed the parkour Enrique and his assistants had put up for what could have been the tenth time, only because the pain in his side had gotten too sharp to ignore, and he had turned his face up towards the bright blue sky as he had tried to catch his breath and get his body back under control.

To his left, someone had whistled sharply through their teeth, “Here.”

Leo had cracked one eye open just in time to see Luis holding out a water bottle for him to take and he had forced himself to a smile as he had accepted the drink that had been offered to him, “Oh, thank you.”

Sipping at the cool water, he had wearily eyes into the direction of the paparazzi. He had been hyperaware of the cameras that had been fixed on him and his teammates, as well as of the way that the press had somehow always been able to read and interpret his facial expressions and body language had come terrifyingly close to mind reading. He had his fair share of experience with that, of how ruthless the press and their associates had tended to be and just how easy it had always been for them to ruin relationships of every kind. 

Instead of resuming his own workout, Luis had pulled Leo into a quick side hug that the younger man could not have warded off without causing a scene even if he would have wanted to and so Leo had merely melted a bit into the hug, giving so much as a roll of his eyes when Luis had ruffled through and messed up his hair with intent. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” the Uruguayan had muttered with a playfully accusatory tone, laughing at what he had said and pulling rather than just leading Leo over to where Gerard, Neymar and the rest of the team had been doing training shots at Marc-André’s goal, and for the remaining thirty minutes of training Leo had more or less successfully managed to keep his focus on the ball at his feet rather than on any of his worries.

That he had forgotten all about Cristiano, however, would have been a blatant lie and so he had almost been reluctant when the training session had come to an end and it had been time for them to retreat to the changing room and other than he had usually done it, he had ignored the youngest of his fans without exception, walking right past them with his gaze casted downwards and ignoring the curious looks he had gotten from his teammates. At the point he had reached by then, Leo could not have been bothered enough to care whether more people would notice the shift in his mood.

So it had happened that he had only responded with a halfhearted snort while the others had full-on shrieked with laughter at the Neymar’s indignant squeal when Gerard had whacked his towel against the back of Neymar’s thighs as the Brazilian had bend down to untie his shoes, Leo being the very first one of the squad to disappear into the showers while he had usually taken his time to joke around with his friends. All he had wanted to do had been to go home and not see anyone for the rest of the day. Given how he had practically stormed out of the room, he had missed how Gerard and Neymar had shared a look before they had left for the corridor with their phones in their hands and determined looks on their faces, whispering to each other.

Turning the water on, Leo had closed his eyes and had stepped under the stream, allowing the warm water to simply wash over him while he had taken a much needed moment to collect himself, trying, once again with only little success, to get the constantly turning gearwheels in his mind to a halt. His first instinct had still been to talk to Gerard and Neymar about this entire situation, God had known that he had since lost count of how many times Gerard had crashed at his place because he had an argument or problems with Sergio and how many hours he had listened to Neymar complain about the struggles of a long-distance relationship when his best friend had first gotten together with James; Leo had known that neither one of his closest friends had ever send him away when he had a problem he had wanted to talk about and that they would never do so, no matter the circumstances, but yet he had failed to actually step over the treshold and open up to them.

 _Great_. Squeezing his eyes shut a bit harder when he, to his shock, had felt tears welling in them, Leo had left the water running while he had shampooed his hair because he then had been able to tell himself that there had been no way for him to differentiate whether it had been droplets of water or tears that had tickled him underneath the chin. The Argentine had vaguely noticed one after the other of his teammates had joined him in the showers and he had hurried to rinse the shampoo out of his hair, word- and soundlessly slipping out of the steam-filled room, blotting at his hair and letting out a sigh as he had sat down on the bench and had pulled his gym bag out.

“Just great,” he had muttered to himself, giving in to the urge to check his phone even though he had known that it would only disappoint him more, and when the only text he had gotten in the meantime had turned out to be one from Dolores, asking him how his day had been so far, it had only send another stab into his heart, a surge of nausea through his body and had manifested the fear that he had been about to lose his chosen family after he had already lost his biological one because of who he had loved. Leo had dropped his phone back into the depths of his bag with little care and without having answered to Dolores’ text to gather his clean clothes instead, quickly slipping on his underwear and sweatpants. He had put in his shirt as well before he had fished a protein bar out of the gym bag, nibbling at it rather listlessly.

Within the blink of an eye, really, there had suddenly been Neymar sitting to his right and Gerard plopping down onto the bench beside him, both damp from their showers and with towels wrapped around their waists. “And I thought that you already fled the scene,” Gerard had said with a laugh, exchanging a quick look with Neymar when Leo had not been looking.

That the lopsided smile Leo had mustered had not been convincing in the slightest, he had not needed to be told. “Since when does going home after training count as _fleeing the scene_ ,” he had tried to argue, but just as they had done it earlier, his words had sounded like a pitiful excuse at best even to his own ears and he had swallowed hard, looking down at where his fingers had been fumbling with the wrapper of his protein bar. The Catalan’s right hand had suddenly come up to rest in the back of his neck as a warm and familiar weight and when it had given him a little squeeze, Leo had almost broken down right there and then. He had just been so stressed, and so worried.

“I forgot to ask you earlier - can you give me a lift to Sants when we’re done here?” Leo had nodded, not wondering why Gerard had wanted him to drive him to the railway station when they had both come to training with their own cars, because there surely had been a reason why he had asked him, and Gerard’s hand had squeezed the back of his neck once more before it had disappeared. “Great, thank you.”

Less than twenty minutes after their short conversation in the changing room, Leo had carefully reversed his car out of the parking slot he had pulled into earlier, Gerard having claimed the passenger’s seat. “Is Ser coming to visit?”, he had asked, the question escaping him before he really had the time to think about it while he had waited for the ongoing traffic to allow him to pull out of the parking lot and Leo had shot his best friend a quick look when Gerard had merely answered by making a disagreeing sound. Not giving a verbal answer definitely had not been usual for the Catalan, but who had Leo been to point it out? “Your car...?”

That time, Gerard had given a proper answer. “Oh I already gave Ney my keys,” he had said with a laugh, looking up from where he had been playing a game on his phone, “don’t worry about it.”

Leo had nodded in acknowledgement, having to concentrate on the heavy traffic. He had thought that Gerard would take the hint and elaborate why he had suddenly needed to be at Barcelona’s main train station, but Leo had once more been surprised at how Gerard had hummed along to the song which had been playing on the radio rather than keeping the conversation running and the Argentine had wondered if he had been the only one who had not known what had been going on that day. While the drive to Sants Estación might not have been a very long one, he had still noticed how his friend had become increasingly nervous when they had ended up in a small traffic jam at one of Barcelona’s worst intersection, so as if he had been under more time pressure than he had told Leo, but Gerard had, once again, decided not to complain or say anything about it and so they had listened to the radio for the remaining duration of the drive.

He had told himself that he had been okay with it, when he really would have prefered to just talk about anything, really, and had instead hoped that they had not been about to be jumped by paparazzi or ruthless fans when he had taken a sharp left and had steered his Mercedes into the tightly packed parking lot of Barcelona Sants station. “So,” he had announced absolutely unnecessarily, “we’re here then.” Instead of hurrying to get out of the car in order to catch whatever train he had apparently needed to catch so badly, Gerard had smiled at Leo in a way that had made the younger man frown and he had made a small sound of confusion when Gerard had leaned over and had pulled the key out of the ignition, dropping it into his lap. “Wha-”, Leo had set on, but before he could have stuttered out his question, his best friend’s smile had grown even wider.

Gerard had cocked his head into the direction of the nearby main entrance, “Come on, you have a train to Madrid to catch.” There would not have been a use in trying and denying that Leo had been openly gaping at Gerard, his mind failing to collect to connect all of the different dots and Gerard must have expected just that reaction from him, as he had neither laughed nor made any teasing comments. “In case you’re wondering whether you managed to lie to Ney and me by saying that you just had a weird morning: you didn’t.” The Catalan had cocked his eyebrow for just the split of a second, causing Leo to blush, close his mouth and avert his eyes. “We also came to the conclusion that there’s only one person who could possibly ruin your mood like that, and that this certain _someone_ happens to play for the worst club in all of La Liga-”

“Cristiano didn’t do anything,” Leo had interjected, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat that had decided to made an appearance once more. “He didn’t do anything,” he had repeated, “I’m just... breaking my mind over nothing, like always.”

There had been a moment of silence before Gerard had sighed, “It’s not _nothing_ if it manages to bring you down so much, Leo. Did you throw up?” If it would have been someone else asking him so bluntly about something so private, Leo would have been offended. He had only shaken his head. “Okay good, that’s good. So, I called Ser to find out if Cristiano told him anything about what Ney and I _thought_ went down between the two of you but as it turned out, Cristiano didn’t show up for training today.” Leo’s heart had toppled into the pit of his stomach from one second to another. Something had happened. Cristiano had never skipped training. Never. Leo had continued to stare at a spot beside Gerard’s head, waiting, with a palpitating heart, to hear what else Gerard had found out. “It’s the anniversary of his father’s death, Leo.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Gerard had nodded, “eleven years today, I think.” Instead of taking a deep breath and relaxing a bit, Leo had deflated even more. What kind of boyfriend had he been... “Hey, stop that.” Gerard had tapped him underneath the chin as if he had been a young child instead of a twenty-nine-year-old adult, but Leo had still looked up as any child would have done it at the request. “I know for a fact that he doesn’t talk about his father to anyone, he didn’t even do it back in England so don’t you dare feel bad about not having known.”

“So I’m...”

“You’ll be on your way to Madrid in... sixteen minutes. I bought you a ticket, first class and with your own compartment.”

“I...”

Gerard had opened the passenger’s door and had gotten out of the car, not waiting until Leo had come up with something to say in return, rounding the Mercedes to open the door on the driver’s side, “Come on.”

Staring up at his best friend for a few seconds longer, Leo had eventually given himself a mental push, had unbuckled his seatbelt and had clambered out onto less than steady legs. “But Geri,” he had said, “I didn’t pack anything.”

“Do you have your wallet?” Leo had nodded. “Your phone?” He had nodded again. “Then you’re good to go, you have clothes at his place.” While Leo had moved to get his gym bag out of the trunk, Gerard had fumbled his phone out of the front pocket of his jeans and Leo’s phone had vibrated just as his friend had spoken up, “I send you the ticket.”

“Thank you.” The Argentine’s voice had not been raised much above a whisper and he had melted a bit into the hug that Gerard had pulled him into, “thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” the other had said with an equally low voice. “You need him and I’m willing to bet my left leg that Cristiano needs you even more now. Keys?”

Not even in his wildest dreams he could have imagined himself saying no at the very last opportunity, immediately handing over the key to his car. “Thank you,” he had repeated, simply because he had known that the day could have ended badly if it would not have been for his friends’ intervention.

“Anytime.” Gerard had winked at him, “Now go and help your boyfriend, I don’t want my money to go to waste.”

The roll of Leo’s eyes had been a playful one and he had waved at the Catalan before he had turned around and had begun to make his way to the main entrance. His pulse had been in his ears as he had walked; Gerard might have been right when he had told him that Cristiano had never really spoken about his father, but he had felt bad nonetheless, mostly because he had spend the day painting the devil on the wall when it had really been just a bad day for Cristiano’s family. _Just_ had been relative, of course. He himself had never forgotten how much it had hurt when his grandmother had died and even though he had no longer been on speaking terms with neither his father nor his mother, it had not taken him much to imagine that the loss of a parent must be an entirely different kind of painful, especially for a twenty-year-old.

He had checked the ticket Gerard had send him as a PDF to find out the platform he would have to be at as well as the train compartment that he had been booked into; he had usually preferred to fly, though had known that finding a flight on such a short notice had been impossible. It had not taken him long to find his platform, leaving him with another couple of minutes’ worth of time before his train would arrive and Leo had done what he had put off until then - answering Dolores’ text. Leo had felt more than a tad guilty about having left her on read for so long and had thus come up with a white lie, telling her that he had forgotten his phone at home when he had left for training and saving the photo of Junior she had send him earlier, not even trying to hide the smile that had grown on his face at the prospect of getting to see the three-year-old much earlier than he had thought he would have a chance to.

The train to Estación de Madrid Atocha had pulled into the station with no more than a minute of delay and Leo had somehow managed to keep his profile a low one while he and the other travellers had come together to board the train, the Argentine almost disappearing where he had seemed to drown amongst the throng of business people, chattering tourists and a few stressed-out mothers with their strollers, the only person who had apparently recognised him and had decided to act on it had been the young train attendant that had stood by the stairs which had lead to his compartment.

Other than he had done it with the fans during training earlier, Leo had given him an autograph and had posed for a quick selfie after he had showed him his ticket, accepting the attendant’s offer of getting him a drink on the house and stating that he would love a coffee. The younger man had nodded and had nearly stumbled over his own feet in a hurry to get going, coming back with said coffee before Leo had even fully settled into his compartment for the three-hour-journey and stuttering through an explaination that the on-board cafe could be found downstairs.

Leo had made a mental note to thank Gerard for having booked him into first class, because once the sliding door had automatically closed behind the train attendant and Leo had gotten comfortable in his window seat, the anxiety and the strain he had carried around until then had hit him much like a ball to his face and he had needed to take a moment to focus on nothing other than his breathing. He would have to talk, and lie, to Enrique in order to excuse himself from next day’s training, hoping that his excuse of there having been a family emergency would be accepted. It had been just that - hell, if there would be any problems he would pay the fine without a complain as it would be worth it. Then that he had known that Cristiano had not decided to break up with him by ghosting him like his mind had broken itself over, Leo had wanted nothing more than to be there for Cristiano like his boyfriend had always been for him.

༻✦༺

Leo had felt each and every minute of the three hours it had taken the train to leave Sants Estación and pull into Estación de Madrid Atocha halfway across the country pass by him, and even though he had hardly been able to wait to get there and see Cristiano, he had managed to remain rather calm and composed, if he had ignored the way his leg had been bouncing. Sometime into the train ride, he had send Cristiano yet another text to let his boyfriend know that Gerard had told him about the anniversary of his father’s death, that he had understood and that he had been on his way to see him, even though all of his prior messages had still been unread and Cristiano had not been online since six-thirty in the morning, before he had called both Barça’s head coach and his agent to inform them about his family emergency and that he would not be available until later the following day.

He must have sounded convincing and yet pleading enough, because Enrique had not even asked for any further details prior to reassuring Leo that he had been good to miss a day of training, despite the fact that the fallout with his father and, inevitably, the rest of his family had made it onto every single one of Spain’s front pages, ranging from El País and El Mundo to the countless tabloids the yellow press had to offer.

Once Leo had gotten off the train and had tried to find his way out of Estación de Madrid Atocha, the time he had spend more or less unrecognised had come to an end.

In hinsight, he would realise that he probably would have managed to trigger less gasps, murmurs and flashing cameras if it would not have been for the fact that he had still been wearing his Barça sweatpants and carrying the gym bag with his number on it in what had been enemy territory for a Blaugrana if there had been one. He had needed to force his way through the crowd of persistent football fans, but had eventually found the stand with the taxis and had given out the name of street corner in Cristiano’s neighbourhood rather than the address to Cristiano’s house, as the taxi driver had already eyed him not as friendly as he would have looked at any other customer through the rearview mirror and Leo had almost laughed out loud at the sight of the Real Madrid air freshener which had been dangling from said mirror. _Just his luck_. To avoid any bad press, he had still passed the driver enough bills to cover a proper tip before he had climbed out of the taxi.

The walk from the corner that he had told the driver to make a stop at to Cristiano’s house had turned out to be shorter than Leo had expected it to be, and the last bit of worry that his boyfriend might not have been home after all had disappeared when he had spotted the closed garage door. Drawing in a deep breath to steady, he had quickly typed in the security code and had stepped back as the gate had opened with a low rumble, trying to banish the last bit of his worries into the far back of his mind. Leo had decided to forgo the step of ringing the door bell and waiting whether the Portuguese would open the door for him, instead taking a moment to rummage through his bag to find his keys and realising, with a somersaulting heart, that it had been the first time he had actually used them since Cristiano had asked him to move in with him and Junior.

It might not even have been four in the afternoon but he had tried to be as quiet as he only could have been when he had unlocked the door nonetheless, simply because he had not known what Cristiano had been doing. The house had been quiet and Leo had been short to holding his breath as he had opened the door wider in order to enter it. There had not been any pitter-patter of feet, telling him that neither Junior nor Marosca had been around, and at the lack of muffled music coming from upstairs, he had known that Cristiano had not been in his gym.

Leo had just taken his shoes off and had put the keychain down onto the side table by the front door when he had thought to have caught the sound of a cabinet door falling shut, and before he had even come up with something to say, Cristiano had come into sight from the nearby kitchen. The way he had looked had caused Leo’s heart to clench hard enough for it to be painful. He had never seen him so miserable and obviously heartbroken, not even after his worst losses or most devastating injuries and he would have been surprised if Cristiano had slept more than a couple of hours last night, judged by the dark circles around his eyes and the creases on his face that had usually never been so deep.

“Leo?” Behind the glasses that Leo had never seen the older man wear before, Cristiano’s reddened and swollen eyes had widened in sheer disbelief and he had suspected that if it would not have resulted in the glass and carafe Cristiano had been holding to shatter, he would have just let go of them. “Bebê what are you... How are you...” Cristiano had started, but words had seemed to fail on him and a small smile had grown on Leo’s face as he had put his gym bag down as well.

“Geri told me,” he had said, the soft tone of his voice in a stark contrast to Cristiano’s baritone and rough-from-crying one. “He bought me a train ticket, too.” His boyfriend’s wide eyes had stayed fixed on him for a moment longer and from the short distance between them Leo had been able to see him swallow hard a few times, trying to keep his composure upright much like Leo himself had needed to do it earlier. Cristiano had opened and closed his mouth without saying a word, and Leo had simply followed him into the living room after Cristiano had turned around rather abruptly.

Given by the state of the living room, the Portuguese hadd apparently spend the entire day in it. There had been a box of tissues on the coffee table and a good dozen used ones piled up next to it, though what had caught his eyes had been a photo box, out of which a few small stacks had been taken out and arranged in a way that had probably made more sense to Cristiano than to Leo. He had not needed to take more than one look at them to realise that they had been photos from Cristiano’s childhood, and most of them had showed José. Leo had decided not to mention them, because his boyfriend had already been blinking back tears when he had set the carafe and glass down onto the coffee table with trembling hands. The prospect that Cristiano had done this all day, crying over the untimely loss of his father while going through old photos, had broken Leo’s heart.

The Portuguese had let out a sound that had stood somewhere between a sigh and a sob and had collapsed rather than sat down onto the spot on the couch he had left to get himself a drink from the kitchen, muttering something that Leo could not have understood even if it would not have been in Portuguese. Neither of them had said anything when Leo had moved to sit down as well, not on the opposite end of the spacious couch but with enough space between them. He had not known whether Cristiano had wanted any closeness with how immense his grief had been, no matter how much Leo had yearned to hug him or at least hold his hand. It had not been about him, after all.

“I-I’m sorry,” Cristiano had said, cutting the silence between them to an end with a breaking voice. “I know that you probably texted me and I never wanted to ignore you... but then everyone gave their condolences and asked how I am and I...” He had pulled his glasses off and had flinged them onto the table in front of him with little care to bury his face in his hands with a choked-up gasp and Leo simply had to close the distance when he had seen how Cristiano’s shoulders had started to shake, scooting closer until he had been sitting right next to his boyfriend.

“It’s okay,” he had whispered, resting a gentle hand between Cristiano’s shoulder blades. He had moved it in what he had hoped had come across as a consoling gesture, “I understand, you don’t have to apologise.”

Not really having expected his boyfriend to react to his words, Leo had failed to suppress the small sound of surprise which had escaped him when Cristiano had switched his position from one second to another and had laid down onto the couch so that his head had been pillowed on Leo’s lap and his face had been hidden against the younger man’s stomach. The first sob had escaped Cristiano then, so as if he had no longer been able to muster the strength to keep them down and a sad smile had formed on Leo’s face at that. He had brought both of his hands to Cristiano’s hair, combing through the loose curls in a low and repetative motion while Cristiano had tried to muffle his sobs by pressing his face further against Leo’s stomach.

“It’s okay,” the younger man had repeated with his voice still not raised above a whisper, sensing that the other had needed to hear it in that moment because while Leo had witnessed him emotional, of course, it had never been to such an extreme. “It’s okay...”

He had seen Cristiano ecstatic when he had come to Madrid for a surprise visit, delighted when Junior and Leo had immediately liked each other and looking at him with love hearts in his eyes when they had slept with each other for the first time. He had seen him crestfallen when they had not gotten around to see each other for weeks on end because their schedules had not allowed it, heartbroken when Leo’s father had exposed his homophobic mindset and devastated when the doctor had told him how bad the injury of his knee had been, not to mention how badly Cristiano had taken it when Leo’s kidney infection had caused him to end up in an emergency surgery. He just had never been there to see Cristiano like that in person, and it had been heart-rending.

His boyfriend had been trembling where he had been lying, eventually bringing up a hand of his own to gather a handful of Leo’s shirt and Cristiano had seemed so small and so vulnerable that Leo had found himself tearing up, a bit knocked off his feet himself by his crying boyfriend in his lap and the whole horror scenario his anxiety had put him through. Leo had managed to force the tears back down by focusing on the feeling of his fingers gliding through Cristiano’s hair, which, unbeknownst to him, had grounded the both of them. Cristiano’s tears had since begun to soak through the fabric of his shirt, though he had paid it no mind.

How long Cristiano’s heartbroken sobbing had continued to fill out the living room Leo could not have told, but when it had stopped, he had sighed in relief and had turned his gaze back down onto his boyfriend from where he had been absentmindedly looking out into the garden, only to see that the sobs had merely ceased because Cristiano had fallen asleep. His face had still been nestled against Leo’s stomach and the hold he had on Leo’s shirt had still been an unyielding one, his breathing interrupted by hitches every then and there.

Leo had shifted a bit to get into a more comfortable position by sitting back further against the couch, holding his breath when Cristiano had whimpered. His boyfriend had _whimpered_ and had curled his fingers even more into the fabric of Leo’s shirt, so as if he had been scared of losing his lifeline and Leo had calmed him down by resuming to comb through his tousled hair and humming a soft tune like he had usually done it to calm Junior down. It had the same effect on Cristiano than it had on his three-year-old son. The Argentine had smiled to himself, noticing how the strain from earlier that day had left him as if a plug had been pulled on it. Cristiano obviously had been far from alright, but Leo had still been with him and holding him while he had slept, so they would manage.

He had only stopped humming and had fallen quiet once his boyfriend’s breathing had evened out and had leaned his head back against the backrest of the couch, intertwining his fingers and cupping his hands against the back of Cristiano’s head. Leo had drawn in a deep breath, had kept it in his lungs for as long as he had been able to do it and had let it out with an inaudible sigh, not wanting to risk waking Cristiano up. While sitting around with nothing else to do would have bored him on any other day, he then could not have dreamed of being anywhere else in that moment than sat on his boyfriend’s couch with Cristiano fast asleep in his lap after he had been so scared of having to face the end of their relationship and Leo had smiled to himself as he had looked around the living room, taking in the various toys which had been strewn around - Junior’s as well as Marosca’s.

His smile had faltered and he had blushed when he had spotted the frame that had definitely not been standing on the windowsill the last time he had been in Madrid. It had held a photo of Junior and him. The photo had been taken the day after Cristiano’s thirty-first birthday and only two days before his emergency surgery, when they had taken an impromptu nap on the couch together, and while he had not even known that this photo had existed, the fact that it had apparently been important enough for Cristiano to print it out and frame it despite being nothing more than a snapshot had made him feel ashamed about having doubted Cristiano’s feelings and intentions towards him so quickly.

༻✦༺

“Não fuja, primeiro preciso tirar seus sapatos.” As Leo had been just sitting with his eyes closed rather than sleeping, the sound of the front door being unlocked had been enough to cause his eyes to fly open before he had even perceived Dolores’ voice or the pitter-patter of multiple pairs of feet. “Venha aqui, Junior.”

“No Avó, I’m a big boy!”

“Eu sei que você é um menino tão grande, meu amor, mas você precisa de ajuda para-”

“Nonono _I_ do it, I’m a big boy!”

At the way that Junior’s little and yet surprisingly strong voice had raised to a louder level when he had tried to argue with Dolores like any three-year-old probably would have done it, Leo had moved one hand from the back of Cristiano’s head to cover his ear. The fact that his boyfriend had fallen asleep on his lap like that had indirectly told him that this rest had been a much needed one for Cristiano, and to Leo’s relief the Portuguese had not even moved a muscle when the footfalls had come closer to the living room and both Marosca and Junior had more or less bursted into the room, pouncing on their respective toys. Leo had watched the scene with amazement, mostly because he had thought, or maybe hoped, that Junior would see him immediately but it had only been after the three-year-old had rummaged through the box of his horse toys and had picked his Barça teddy up from the floor that he had looked up and directly at Leo.

“Leo?” The Argentine’s face had almost been split by the smile that had grown on it when Cristiano’s son had merely continued to look at him with wide eyes, standing frozen to the spot and his teddy bear dangling from his hold. He had been able to see how the realisation had dawned on Junior, because the boy had squealed once he had understood that Leo had really been there and had abandoned his toys to dash over to where Leo had been sitting. “Leeeooo you’re baaack!” Leo had kept his hand gently over Cristiano’s ear at Junior’s excited squeal and Marosca’s bark that had followed a few mere seconds later, the young Labrador’s tail had been wagging as much as it only could have after she must have caught his smell. “Hi Leo, hi Leo! I missed you!”

It would have been a lie if Leo would have claimed that his heart had not somersaulted at what Junior said but because he had been pretty much immobilised by his sleeping boyfriend, he had only gotten to ruffle the three-year-old’s hair, “I missed you too niño, I’m really happy to see you.” 

Junior had giggled and had caught Leo’s hand to hold onto it, his eyes glistering with childlike joy, “Can you play with me now?” 

“Docinho?” Dolores had seemed to be just as surprised to see him as Junior had been, though Cristiano’s mother had remained composed while her grandson had still been giggling and trying to climb onto the couch beside Leo that had already been occupied by Cristiano’s outstretched body. Leo’s heart had ached at how her smile had turned sad when she had eyed her sleeping son and when Dolores had made her way over to the couch, it had been to pick Junior up, who had whined in protest and had kicked his short legs into the air. “Not now, docinho, not now. Deixe seu pai dormir um pouco, vou fazer panquecas para você...”

Junior had continued to whine, but his kicking had ceased; Leo and Dolores had nodded at each other, wordlessly agreeing that they would talk later, and while Cristiano’s mother had carried Junior, Marosca had jumped onto the couch to Leo’s left. With a whine, the young Labrador had nuzzled Leo’s side and Leo had smiled down at his dog, taking his hand away from Cristiano’s ear to give Marosca a few strokes down her neck. “Hey you,” he had whispered, suppressing a laugh as to not wake Cristiano up. He might have been able to watch the yellow Labrador grow through the photos that Cristiano and Dolores had send him on a daily basis, but he had still been surprised by how much bigger she had become since he had last seen her in August. “I missed you too.”

Marosca had let out another, though more quiet bark as if to agree with what Leo had said and he had rewarded her with a few scratches behind the ears, which had elicited a contented growl from the young dog that had soon settled into a lying position against him.

They had sat together for a few minutes, Marosca chewing away at one of her chewing toys and Leo holding his hands cupped against the back of Cristiano’s head again, until Leo had eventually begun to think that it would have been wiser if Cristiano would lie down upstairs, as their king-sized bed had undoubtedly been more comfortable than the couch, and had thus decided to try and wake the Portuguese up without startling him. Combing both of his hands through Cristiano’s hair again, he had raised his voice just a tad. “Cristiano,” he had said, biting his lip as he had waited for a reaction which had not come. “Cris, can you wake up for a moment?”

He had let out a laugh when his boyfriend’s face had scrunched up, the older man clearly not appreciating being woken up, but Leo had stopped laughing and had merely smiled fondly as he had watched Cristiano wake up, groaning and muttering a string of words under his breath. It had taken Cristiano a few moments to wake up for good and Leo had not even thought about not giving him all the time had needed, simply resuming to comb through the older man’s soft curls. “Bebê? Wha’ is it?”

“Your mother brought Junior and Marosca home,” he had said, deliberately keeping his voice down, “and I think that you should go to bed rather than stay here, Junior probably won’t give you a quiet minute.”

Instead of sitting up right away, Cristiano had slowly turned over onto his back so that he had been able to look up at Leo without having to lift his head up from where it had been pillowed on the Argentine’s back, tears welling in his eyes as he had done so. “I love you.” Leo had felt himself blush when Cristiano had brought a hand up to just brush the tips of his fingers against Leo’s shaved cheek, “I love you so much, eu não sei o que eu já fiz para merecer você...”

The younger man had turned his head to press a kiss into Cristiano’s palm, and the Portuguese had mustered a small smile despite the tears that had been constantly building up in his eyes. His had just taken in Leo’s face for a moment, not saying anything else, before he had sat up with a groan, running a hand through his hair which had already been left disheveled by Leo’s attention. It had only been then that he had filled his glass with the water he had gotten from the kitchen, so as if he had entirely forgotten about his thirst after he had been surprised by Leo, to empty it with three large gulps, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand when he had put the glass down again. Cristiano had suddenly seemed rather embarassed, had leaned over to take his glasses from where he had thrown them onto the coffee table and had slipped them on; that he had not needed to put on an act for him, Leo had not said, guessing that it had just been Cristiano’s way of handling his emotions, and had allowed Cristiano to pull him onto his feet after his boyfriend had wordlessly taken his hand.

“Mãe? Junior?”

“Pai!” If it would not have been for Cristiano’s quick reflexes that had made him take a quick step backwards, his three-year-old son would have ended up running into his legs, as Junior had come dashing out of the kitchen without looking left or right, “Pai!”

“Hey nino,” Cristiano had almost whispered, letting go of Leo’s hand to crouch down and pull Junior in for a hug that the young boy had melted into, standing up with the three-year-old in his arms and Leo had known that he had not just imagined the tear that had claimed its way down Cristiano’s face as he had held his son close. “Você teve um bom dia no jardim de infância?”

“Uh-huh!” Junior had nodded strong enough to send his curls bouncing, “I played horse!”

Cristiano had snorted, “You played horse? In kindergarten?”

“Uh-huh Pai, in kindergarten!”

The Portuguese had laughed once again, “No football, nino?” and had nuzzled his son’s curls, making it rather obvious that he had needed the moment with him.

The three-year-old had giggled and had shaken his head just as vehemently as he had nodded. “No football,” he had said, sounding so serious that both Leo and Cristiano had laughed. “I no like it, Pai!”

“Oh you don’t mean it,” Cristiano had retorted, but the corners of his mouth had twitched upwards as he had changed the hold he had on Junior so that he had been settled on his hip, “you like to play football with Uncle Sergio, don’t you?” Junior had shaken his head with even more vigour, and Leo had pressed his lips together in an attempt to hide a grin. “You don’t like to play with Ser? Another shake of Junior’s head had followed. “And with me? Você sempre gosta de jogar futebol comigo, não é, nino?”

“No, I no like football.” Cristiano’s son had _giggled_ and had clapped his hands together, apparently finding the situation incredibly funny. That his father had cocked an unamused eyebrow at him had not impressed him in the slightest.

“Well,” Leo had paused dramatically, “I guess that... at least he won’t become a Blaugrana?” He had smiled at his boyfriend, “That’s what you feared the most, wasn’t it?”

“My own son doesn’t like football... God help me, what am I supposed to do with that boy now? I bet it’s because you gave him that abomination of a teddy, _Leo_.” The Portuguese might have tried to sound serious, but he had failed to hide his smile in Junior’s curls quick enough for Leo to not see it. If anyone else would have heard him, they possibly would have taken Cristiano’s words serious and sold them to the DailyMail, who had always been willing to show how bad of a father Cristiano had been in their eyes, but Leo had known so much better than to assume that there had even been so much as an ounce of truth behind what he had said, that Cristiano had not been proud of Junior regardless.

There had been a moment of silence after that when Cristiano had moved his had up and down his son’s back, and Leo had felt a twinge in his chest at the way that the older man’s smile had turned incredibly sad from one second to another and he had known that Cristiano had mourned the fact that José had never gotten to know Junior, and vice versa. Cristiano had swallowed, visibly hard, and had shot an almost uncertain look into Leo’s direction before he had looked back down at Junior, who had been babbling to himself while he had tugged at his father’s shirt as if to underline what he had been talking about. “Do you want to stay with Leo? I... have to work, but I promise that I’ll play with you later, okay? Eu promento, meu amor.”

The three-year-old had not needed to be asked twice, had nodded before Cristiano had even finished speaking and had leaned over to make grabby hands at Leo, who had stepped closer to take Junior into his arms. “Do you need something?” Leo had asked, setting Junior on his hip. Cristiano has shaken his head, had smiled an utterly sad smile and had placed a quick kiss on Leo’s cheek before he had turned on his heels and had hurried up the stairs, then not even bothering to try and hide how much desperate he had been. Deflating a bit, Leo had watched him go; he had known that there had been nothing he could have done to help him, but his heart had ached for Cristiano all the more.

The Argentine had only been pulled back into the there and then when Junior had squirmed and had let out a petulant whimper, obviously wanting his attention, and he had forced to smile, hoisting the toddler a bit higher onto his hip. His smile had become more genuine at the giggle it had elicited from Junior, “You’re so impatient, niño.”

“Docinho?”

“Coming,” Leo had answered to Dolores’ call, following her voice back to the kitchen.

Cristiano’s mother had been whipping together what had looked like a batter for pancakes; she had put the wooden mixing spoon down and had wiped her hands at the apron she had tied around her waist when she had caught sight of Leo. The younger man had just enough time to put Junior down and tell the boy to go and get a toy he would like to play with before Dolores’ arms had been around him and he had found himself enclosed in a motherly embrace.

Dolores’ voice had been unusually unsteady when she had spoken. “Docinho,” she had said with a sigh. Leo had been hugged a bit tighter and he had closed his eyes, allowing himself to go pliant and bringing his arms up to close them around Dolores in return. “Oh, it’s so good to see you today...” Cristiano’s mother had held him for a moment longer, much longer than she had done it most times, and had yet pulled back at just the right time. There might not have been tears in her eyes, but Leo had not missed the lines of grief and sadness on her face. “I didn’t know that you’d be coming, I would’ve brought Junior over sooner if I would’ve known.” She had laughed once, “My son didn’t tell me.”

Hearing Dolores laugh had made it easy for Leo smile; he would not have said anything, but if he would have to deal with her breaking down in the same manner as Cristiano, he probably would have cried together with her, “It wasn’t planned, I... didn’t even know about today, Gerard told me.”

Dolores had nodded, picking the mixing spoon back up. She had been much less surprised than Leo had expected her to be. “Don’t feel bad, docinho. It’s been eleven years now, and Cristiano still doesn’t talk about him,” she had sighed. “I tried to tell him that he should tell you more about what happened to José but he only told me that he doesn’t want to burden you because of what happened with your parents.”

Leo had sat down in one of the free chairs at the kitchen table, shaking his head, “It’s not the same.”

“It might not be, but what your parents did to you is... To Cristiano, it is the same.”

He had not really known what he could have answered to that, and so he had been rather grateful when Junior had come back from the living room, his Barça teddy in one and two of his horse toys in his other hand. The young boy had been blissfully unaware of what had been going on with those around him, the only one of his worries having been about possibly needing to let go of either his favourite teddy or his toys in order to climb onto Leo’s lap, but even that worry had been a short-lived one, as Leo had picked Junior up and had sat him down onto his lap before Cristiano’s son could have even protested about having to make a choice.

Having the toddler on his lap like that had given Leo the first real chance to hug him and he had done so immediately, laying his arms around Junior and hugging him to his chest. He had smiled to himself at the way the three-year-old had welcomed it and had leaned into the hug. “I missed you _so much_ , niño,” Leo had whispered into the mess of Junior’s hair after he had pressed a kiss into it, caring very little that he had been repeating himself. “Did you have fun in kindergarten? I heard you played with horses today, was that fun?”

“Uh-huh Leo, it was!” Junior had giggled and had kicked his short legs into the air once, moving his horse toys around on the table top, “Leo can we play horses too? Please?”

“You want to play horses with me, niño?”

“ _Yeees!_ ”

Cristiano’s son had tipped his head back to show off his toothy grin to Leo, who had laughed at the silliness of his behaviour, “Okay niño, we can do that after we’ve had your Avó’s pancakes, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Junior had said with a small voice, continuing to move his horses around, and Leo’s smile had widened impossibly more.

He had combed a hand through the toddler’s curls and had kissed him atop the head once more before he had turned his attention to where Dolores had then been standing at the stove, “Are you sure that I can’t help you with anything?”

Cristiano’s mother had clicked her tongue, “Oh no docinho, you just sit and let me do it.”

“Dolores-”

Against his own will, Leo had blushed and had quickly looked away when Dolores had turned around and had given him one of those unimpressed looks Cristiano had unmistakably inherited from her, though he had known that she had been aware of how he had only wanted to help, as the corners of Dolores’ mouth had twitched while she had looked at him and he had heard her laughing after she had already turned back around. “Cristiano won’t come to eat?”

Leo had shaken his head, “I told him that if would be better for him to lie down upstairs, because with Junior and Marosca...”

Dolores had hummed, flipping a pancake, but had not answered otherwise, so as if she had expected to hear Leo say just that. A couple of minutes later, the three of them had been sitting at the set kitchen table; Junior had still been on Leo’s lap, looking like a little king on his perched on his very own throne while he had munched on the banana and dulce de leche pancake Dolores had cut into small pieces for him. Leo had the same kind of pancake on his plate, as Junior had wanted what he had, but other than the three-year-old, Leo had troubles getting it down, his anxiety and the grief Cristiano had radiated had robbed him of his appetite even though he had been quite hungry.

“What is it, docinho?” Cristiano’s mother had said out of the sudden, putting a hand onto his forearm, and Leo had swallowed hard. _Of course she had noticed_. “I can see that there’s something going on with you.”

Other than he had done with Gerard and Neymar, however, Leo had not even tried to deny it or come up with a pitiful lie, because lying to the woman who had done everything to be like a mother to him even before the break with his parents had happened simply would have felt wrong. “I was just... worried,” he had admitted, “and I know it’s stupid and unfair towards Cris but I... I was worried that he wanted to break up with me.”

Dolores had given his arm a gentle squeeze, “You’re right docinho, it’s absolutely ridiculous. I’ve never seen him more happy than when he is with you, or talking about you, or just showing off photos of you. Cristiano loves you so very much, and for me, it’s easy to see that you love him back just as much as he loves you.”

༻✦༺

Dolores had ended up staying until it had been time for Junior to get ready to go to bed, something that Leo had been rather thankful for, as Cristiano had not come downstairs for the rest of the afternoon and early evening. Like he had promised it to the three-year-old, Leo had played horses with Junior after Dolores and him had done the dishes, helping Cristiano’s son with building a little farm and setting up the toys like Junior had wanted it and the Argentine had found himself wanting to laught about the fact that Sergio and his influence had apparently been enough to make _Cristiano Ronaldo’s_ son favour horses over football. Sure, it had hardly been possible for anyone to predict the future of the three-year-old’s interest, but even if Junior would end up taking after his father’s passion and talent, it would be a funny story to tell the boy once he would be old enough to understand it.

Dolores had taken Marosca onto her evening walk - the yellow Labrador might have been Leo’s dog as well, but he had not even been able to walk her like he had wanted to. The press would have had a field day if he would be seen walking _Ronaldo’s_ dog, and Leo had caught himself wishing that Cristiano and him could have stopped hiding for the dozenth time that day alone. It just had not been fair at all.

Together with Dolores, Leo had run Junior a bath once the three-year-old’s eyes had become heavy and he had refused to be anywhere else than on Leo’s lap, and even though they had used the bathroom upstairs, the nearby bedroom door had stayed closed and Cristiano had not made an appearance. What had surprised Leo the most, and had made his heart soar, had been the way that Junior had seemed to have been happy with being brought to bed by him rather that Cristiano. The toddler had not once cried for his Pai, had only whimpered when Leo had not picked him up right after he had brushed his teeth for him and had made grabby hands at the Argentine, following his every move with wide eyes until Leo had hoisted him into his arms again.

“You’re okay niño,” Leo had whispered, pressing a kiss into Junior’s damp curls. He had hugged him a bit closer, eliciting another, though calmer, whimper from the young boy who had been falling asleep steadily, his head resting in the crook between Leo’s neck and shoulder and the fingers of one of his small hands curled into the fabric of Leo’s shirt. “You’ll go to sleep and tomorrow we can play again, yeah? Shhh it’s okay, you can sleep soon.”

Leo had hummed while he had carried Junior to the nursery, gently rocking the three-year-old as he had put the night light into the socket by the door and had turned the CD player on, making sure that the volume had not been too high. Junior had mewled, shifting in Leo’s hold, who had placated him by kissing his temple and handing him his Barça teddy before he had put him down into his cot. Mozart’s soft music had filled out the room by then and Leo had tucked Cristiano’s son in, crouching down by the side of the cot to put an arm through the bars and stroke Junior’s curls for a long moment, watching how he had immediately settled. “’Eo?”

“Yeah, niño?”

“You come back?”

“I’ll be here when you wake up tomorrow and then we can play _all_ you want,” Leo had said, his voice not raised above a whisper. He had brushed a curl away from Junior’s forehead, “I’ll be here niño, I promise.”

“’kay.”

The pacifier had bobbed between Junior’s lips and his eyes had stayed fixed on Leo for a moment longer before they had dropped close and the three-year-old had rolled over onto his side, hugging his teddy to his chest. Leo had watched him for a moment before he had reached out and had pulled the duvet back up after it had slipped down when Junior had moved. He could have stayed by the side of the cot for much longer, but had eventually managed to tear himself away from the sight, leaving the door ajar and only making a short pause to listen whether Junior had really been asleep. It had only been when he heard nothing but classical music that Leo had made his way to where Dolores had been cleaning up after Junior’s bath. “He’s asleep,” he had said, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door.

Dolores had made an understanding noise, had balled up the last one of the towels and had put it into the laundry basket, “He’s rarely ever this easy to get into bed, it’s always just with you, docinho.” She had smiled at Leo from over her shoulder, making it clear that she had not really expected an answer from him, and so he had kept quiet while she had cleaned up and they had gone downstairs together. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?”

“Yeah,” Leo had said with a nod, standing by while Cristiano’s mother had put on her shoes and had gathered her things, “I won’t leave before the afternoon, I arranged it with the club.”

“Cristiano will like that.” She had smiled at him, “As do I, of course.”

The younger man had welcomed the hug just like he had done it earlier, had promised Dolores that he would look after Cristiano and that he would love to have breakfast with tomorrow, calling for Marosca to come to him after he had closed the door behind Cristiano’s mother and had turned the security system on for the night. There had not been a particular reason for Leo to call his dog and disturb Marosca in whatever it had been that she had been doing, but he had decided that she would be allowed to spend the night upstairs with Cristiano and him, even if he would have to argue with Cristiano - which Leo simply had not seen happening that evening. “We need to be quiet,” he had told the young Labrador, catching her by the collar before she could have scampered up the stairs and Marosca had obeyed, her tail wagging when Leo had rewarded her with a stroke down her neck. “Good girl, let’s not wake Cris and Junior up, okay?”

The dog had stayed at Leo’s side for the rest of the short walk, pressed against his leg as if she had been able to sense that he had become increasingly nervous the closer they had come to the bedroom. In order to not wake up his boyfriend, Leo had tried to open the door as quietly as he could have done it. He had been surprised to see that Cristiano had not been half as asleep as he had expected him to be; the Portuguese had been sprawled out in the middle of the bed with his headphones in, his eyes still red and swollen and wearily fixed on the screen of his phone.

As he had noticed the movement by the door, Cristiano had more or less torn the headphones out of his ears. “Bebê,” he had whispered, his voice even more broken than it had been earlier and Leo’s chest had clenched hard enough to hurt. He had thought about changing into his pyjama, but Cristiano’s eyes had stayed on him much like Junior’s had done it and when the older man had held out his arms too, Leo had merely set his phone aside onto the bedside table before he had clambered onto the bed and into Cristiano’s waiting arms. “Bebê,” Cristiano had whispered once more, burying his face in Leo’s hair and hugging him so close that Leo could not have wriggled out of the hold if he would have wanted to. “Bebê,” he had repeated, with a sigh that time, “thank you for-for being here,” and Leo had closed his eyes when he had heard Cristiano trying to stifle a sob.


End file.
